


Broken

by Dean_hugs_Sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Dean, Gen, Hospitalization, Hurt Sam, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Worried Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dean_hugs_Sammy/pseuds/Dean_hugs_Sammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The werewolf hunt was supposed to be an easy peasy silver-bullet-to-the-heart kinda thing for the Winchester brothers, but when the hunt takes a turn in the wrong direction, Sam is the one to pay the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime in Season 2 after "Heart".
> 
> Art by AmberDreams.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/housefullofbooks/16001375250)

"So werewolf, huh?" Dean said while filling up his favorite gun – the Colt 1911 A1 .45 caliber semi-automatic – with silver bullets.

"Yeah, seems like it." Sam answered. "Fits with the lunar cycle, the description of the person from the witnesses, and the missing hearts."

From his position on the edge of his motel room bed, Dean glanced at his younger brother who was sitting cross-legged on the other bed with his computer in his lap. The last encounter the brothers had had with a werewolf had ended with Sam getting his heart broken, and Dean wondered if this case would rip open old wounds that – if he knew his little brother well enough which Dean had no doubts that he did – probably hadn't healed completely and, being as emotional and guilt-ridden as Sam tended to be, probably never really would. However, Dean didn't intend to be the one to bring up the sore subject. If Sam needed to talk about what happened to Madison, he would talk.. _but_ if Dean could avoid it, there was no reason to start something that most certainly would turn into one of those rare chick flick moments that was reserved for Sam - and for Sam only.

"Dean, are you listening?" Sam asked, tearing Dean out of his thoughts.

"What? Yeah, sure." Dean said and cocked his gun. "Big bad wolfie is about to get hunted. That'll teach him not to go after old ladies and little girls, huh?"

"Funny." Sam said in a dry voice and closed the lid of his laptop before putting it away. "You ready to go?"

"You know I am." Dean said with a wry smile and handed Sam his gun which the younger man accepted and stuffed into the waistband of his pants. "Time to pay Mr. Goodwin another visit."

The Impala came to a stop by the curb in front of an old mansion that belonged to the managing director for an IT company, Mr. Charles Goodwin, that Dean and Sam had questioned the day before about the mysterious murders in his neighborhood. Mr. Goodwin had politely shown them his mansion and had answered all their questions before they'd left the place again, but there had been something about the way Charles Goodwin had reacted to some of the questions that had awoken the brothers' suspicion. It was especially the way the middle-aged gentleman had kept glancing nervously towards the sky through the curtains of the windows, as the day came closer and closer to dusk that - combined with the housekeeper's testimony and the statements from some of the neighbors - had convinced the Winchesters that something was indeed off with the guy.

"You're wrong." Dean said to Sam as they stepped out of the car and started walking towards the front door of the mansion. "The Joker is way more wicked than the Green Goblin will ever be. And I'm surprised you don't agree with me on this one."

"Why?" Sam asked when they reached the entrance, and used the old iron handle attached to it to knock on the door.

"Dude, the guy's practically a clown!" Dean exclaimed. "And we both know how you feel about clowns, little brother."

"He's a joker, not a clown." Sam protested with a huff.

"Seriously Sam, how many comic book pictures of the Joker have I shown you throughout the years? 'The _clown_ prince of crime'?" Dean said and looked incredulously at his younger brother as Sam shrugged his shoulders and used the iron handle to knock on the door once more. "He's already wearing the clown makeup – give the guy a red nose, a wig and those stupid big shoes, and he's ready to join the circus."

Sam seemed to think about that for a few seconds and then shot his older brother a bitchface.

"I hate you sometimes, you know that?" Sam said which made Dean grin.

"Yeah you keep telling yourself that." Dean said and then turned serious. "Nobody home?"

"Let's find out." Sam said and tried the door knob before pushing the door open.

"Huh. I guess there's no need to huff and puff and blow the house in to find the wolf." Dean said as he pulled out his gun.

"Actually it's the wolf and not the pigs that.. you know what, never mind." Sam said, pulled out his own gun and followed behind his brother into the mansion.

The entrance hall contained a big staircase with two set of stairs that were divided through a landing in the middle, a lot of art sculptures and paintings covering each walls on the sides of it and from the ceiling high above hang a chandelier. The ostentatious room echoed with each of the careful footsteps the brothers took, making their attempt of a surprise-attack pretty impossible. Being quite grateful for the fact that they'd been shown around in the mansion the previous day, Dean gestured with his gun for Sam to go left while he himself went right – knowing that they would be able to meet up in the dining room a few moments later.

"Anything?" Sam asked when the brothers found themselves face to face again shortly after splitting up.

"Nothing." Dean answered. "Let's try upstairs."

As they started climbing the mighty staircase, Sam noticed that the sun had almost set which meant that they didn't have much time before Charles Goodwin would transform into his werewolf self. The younger Winchester brother preferred taking down the man in his werewolf form any day though; after what had happened to Madison, he couldn't stand having to kill anyone that looked as innocent and just pure _human_ as she had done the moment Sam had ended her life.

"Sam. You gotta see this." Dean said and the younger man hurried to catch up with his brother, not even realizing he'd sagged behind in the first place.

"Damn it." Sam muttered and let out a sad sigh as he caught up with Dean and found himself looking down at a woman's body that had a big bloody gaping hole in her chest from where her heart used to be.

"The housekeeper." Dean confirmed. "I guess she didn't make it to her sister's place after all then."

Sam swallowed down rising bile and tore his look away from the dead housekeeper's wide-open but unseeing eyes, before he walked away from the corpse with his brother following suit.

The first floor of the mansion consisted of a long hallway with a bunch of doors on each side of it. In a sync that had resulted from a lifetime of watching each other's every move, the Winchester brothers checked room after room for any signs of Goodwin the werewolf, but without success.

"Dean, there's a set of stairs leading to the attic here." Sam said after opening up a door, revealing a small and sheer staircase that they weren't familiar with from their visit in the house the previous day.

"You think there's any chance our werewolf buddy might hang out up there?" Dean asked, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a flashlight before illuminating the dark staircase in front of them.

"Worth a shot." Sam said and let Dean lead the way up the stairs.

The stairs creaked disturbingly much by each step they took and Dean inwardly cursed as their position was once again compromised by the old mansion. If Charles Goodwin was indeed hiding out in the attic, there was no way that he hadn't heard them approaching already.

The attic looked like most attics do; a whole bunch of stuff were spread out and piled up in the large room – furniture in all kinds of shapes and styles, dozens of boxes stuffed with things and even an old piano had found a spot to retire. In the far end of the room, there was a set of glass doors leading out to a balcony. Every surface in the room was covered by a thick layer of dust and every corner and curve of the room were covered by spider webs. All in all, a pretty normal-looking attic – which unfortunately meant tons of places to hide for a werewolf.

"Stay close." Dean whispered to his little brother who had also brought out a flashlight and was holding it alongside his gun.

Practically moving around back to back, the brothers scanned the various items of the attic, looking through every possible hide-out in their search for the werewolf.

"Maybe he's not here." Dean said after a little while and stopped up to study an old doll with a missing eye that looked rather creepy in the dim light of the room.

"I don't know, Dean." Sam said and let the beam of his flashlight move by a big floor mirror. The younger Winchester brother caught his own reflection in the mirror and the back of his brother's head as he let his eyes slide passed it. "We saw his car out front and he.. _Dean_!"

Sam spun around with his gun raised, just in time to see his big brother being tossed into a pile of boxes by the werewolf that Sam had spotted in the mirror a second earlier. Before he was able to fire his gun, Sam screamed out as a burning pain shot through his shoulder from where the werewolf's sharp claws had suddenly torn into his flesh. The younger brother tumbled back a few steps and almost dropped his flashlight but managed to save it before the werewolf lunged for him again.

"Over here, you fugly son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, and the werewolf – a.k.a. Charles Goodwin – turned his attention away from Sam to focus on the older brother instead.

Dean, having lost his gun as he had been tossed into the pile of boxes, used himself as bait and started running towards the balcony – leading the werewolf away from Sam that was cradling his injured shoulder.

"I'm the one with the gun, you moron." Sam mumbled with annoyance and ran towards the balcony as well.

The werewolf made a sharp turn and disappeared from Sam's sight, but before he could comprehend what the creature was up to, Sam saw Dean stop up right in front of the glass doors to the balcony with a confused frown on his face.

"Where did it go?" Dean called out to Sam.

Before Sam could answer, his eyes widened as the werewolf suddenly shot out from Dean's left side and collided with the older Winchester brother in an impact that sent them both flying through the glass doors and landing on the balcony.

"Dean!" Sam shouted and closed the distance to the balcony in a rush.

Dean and Mr. Goodwin were rolling around in pieces of glass fighting each other, but had both just managed to get back on their feet as Sam reached them. The werewolf quickly spun around, ready to attack the younger Winchester brother but didn't get that far before Dean had grabbed the werewolf's collar from behind and smashed its head into the brick wall; effectively knocking Goodwin out cold.

"You alright?" Dean panted out, letting the limp creature drop and noticing the bleeding gashes covering Sam's left shoulder.

"I'm _fine_." Sam said with a roll of his eyes. "You were the one that crashed through the doors."

"Yeah, in order to save your sorry ass." Dean said with no real heat behind his words.

"Right, like I was the one who.." Sam started but was cut off as the railing he had just leaned back against suddenly gave away under his weight and sent him tumbling off the balcony.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, threw himself down on his knees and succeeded in closing his hand around Sam's left wrist just in time to prevent his brother from falling, groaning as his arm protested against Sam's weight.

Sam let out a yelp of pain as his injured arm got harshly yanked in the process, and white hot pain started travelling down his arm, spreading all the way to his fingers.

"Dean!" Sam gasped and stared up at Dean with panicked eyes - his brother's grip around his wrist the only thing keeping him from falling the two stories down from the balcony.

"I've got you." Dean hissed out between clenched teeth, his arm shaking from the efforts of preventing Sam from falling.

Dean closed his other hand around his brother's forearm and clenched his jaw hard as he prepared himself for the upcoming task of pulling Sam up.

"Dean, you can't keep holding us both up." Sam said as he felt how much Dean's hands were shaking and saw the exertion on the older brother's face. His own arm was slowly starting to get numb from the pain in his shoulder.

"Shut up! I'm _not_ letting you fall!" Dean growled.

"Dean.." Sam said, wet eyes blinking rapidly up at his older brother.

"Don't you dare, Sam!" Dean warned and locked his eyes with Sam's. "You're _not_ gonna let go! You hear me? I'll get you up!"

A whimper escaped Sam's lips; the pain in his arm so bad now that it was making black dots dance in front of his eyes.

"Hang on." Dean hissed out, moving backwards slowly as he put all his strength into pulling Sam up.

Dean kept pulling and panting and groaning as Sam came closer and closer to being able to reach the edge of the balcony with his right hand; the hand that was somehow still clenching his gun.

"Almost there, Sammy." Dean panted out but Sam wasn't listening cause his eyes had just caught sight of Charles Goodwin that had regained conscious and was rising up behind the older brother.

"Dean!" Sam shouted. "Look out!"

Dean snapped his head to the side to see the werewolf lunging towards him but hadn't got time to react before a shot rang through the air. The werewolf crumbled to the ground as a silver bullet pierced through its chest – at the same time as the ricochet from the gun, that Sam had just fired to save his brother's life, yanked the younger brother from Dean's grasp.

"No! _Sam_!" Dean shouted and watched in horror as Sam slipped from his grip and fell backwards through the air. " _Sammy!_ "

Dean's terrified face was the last thing Sam saw before his body collided with the hard pavement two stories down.


	2. Chapter 2

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/housefullofbooks/16192312982) [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/housefullofbooks/15570713474)

It had all happened as in slow-motion. One minute Dean's grasp around Sam's wrist had been the only thing keeping Sam from falling off the balcony of the old mansion, and the next minute Dean's breath had caught in his throat as Sam – in a bold move to kill the werewolf which had been what had saved his big brother's life – had slipped from Dean's grasp, fallen backwards through the air and had hit the concrete surface two stories down with a sickening thud.

"No! _Sammy_!" Dean shouted, wide-eyed and with rapid breathing as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Time felt frozen around him as Dean stared down at Sam's still form in utterly shock and horror – all sounds and senses lost to him for a few very tense seconds – before everything came crashing back as he finally spun into action. Dean jumped to his feet and didn't give a damn about the dead werewolf that he passed as he sprinted away from the balcony, through the dark attic, down the steer stairway as fast as he could and then continued all the way down to the ground-floor until he'd reached the front door and stepped outside. Dean quickly located the area where Sam had fallen down and, with a heart that was hammering faster and faster the closer he came to Sam, Dean raced the last bit of the way and had to gasp for breath when he finally reached his fallen brother.

"Oh God.." Dean gulped and slid to his knees next to Sam's motionless form. "No, no, no, no. Sam, come on. Please."

"What happened?" A woman's voice called and Dean quickly snapped his head to the side to see one of the neighbors whom they'd interrogated the previous day, come running towards him. "Is he okay?"

"No, he's not okay - he took a fall from the second floor. Call 911!" Dean shouted at her while shielding Sam's body from the woman's eyes. " _Now!_ "

The woman nodded her understanding and then hurried back towards her house while Dean turned his attention back to his little brother.

Sam was lying as he had landed; one leg stretched out in front of him while the other one was bent a little by the knee, arms spread out to each side. Sam's eyes were closed and unmoving behind the lids. His left arm, which had been injured by the werewolf, was lying in a bit of a strange angle that Dean assumed meant a dislocation but that wasn't the older brother's biggest concern at the moment. A dislocation he could deal with - _a dead little brother on the other hand.._

A small puddle of blood colored the back of Sam's floppy hair in crimson from where the youngest Winchester's head had collided with the ground, and blood was trickling from Sam's nose – as well as from his ears.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God." Dean mumbled under his breath, carefully slid shaky fingers across Sam's forehead, down his temples and cheeks in a cautious way – needing to touch his brother, to gather him up and cradle him, but at the same time afraid that he would somehow break Sam even more. "Oh God, Sam."

Dean placed his hands on the ground on either side of Sam's head, then positioned his cheek as close to Sam's nose and mouth as possible while looking towards the younger man's chest to check if Sam was still breathing. Dean almost cried in relief when he felt warm air tickle his cheek and saw how Sam's chest rose and fell – although shallowly.

"Oh thank God, Sammy." Dean muttered after checking Sam's sluggish but present pulse as well, and then shrugged out of his jacket before draping it over Sam's chest to keep his brother as warm as possible until help could arrive.

"What the hell were you thinking, huh?" Dean asked his unconscious brother in a shaky voice. "Doing something so incredible stupid to save.."

Dean stopped talking as his voice broke, and instead let a hand card through Sam's hair again and again while praying to whoever was listening that his little brother would be okay.

"The ambulance is on the way." The neighbor announced in a breathless voice, when she came running towards the brothers yet again. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No." Dean quickly said, not wanting anyone near Sam right now.

"Have you checked for a pulse?" The woman asked and took a cautious step towards Sam. "Maybe CPR is.."

"Stay back, damn it!" Dean growled at her. "Don't come near my brother, you hear me?"

The woman smiled sadly – seeing Dean for what he was in that moment; a worried big brother trying to protect his injured sibling – and slowly crouched down next to Dean's side in a cautious way before placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay." She said in a soft voice. "Help will get here soon."

Dean didn't turn his head to look at her, but it wasn't until then that he realized that his eyes had welled up and was dangerously close to spill over. The older Winchester brother promptly blinked back tears with irritation, and was about to tell the woman to leave him and Sam alone when a wheezing cough escaped the younger brother's lips. Sam weakly started turning his head a bit from side to side – eyes still closed.

"Sam?" Dean asked and leaned closer to his brother's face as he watched Sam's eyelids flutter slightly. "Sammy, can you hear me?"

"You gotta make sure he doesn't move!" The woman gasped at Sam's weak attempt of turning his head towards Dean's voice. "If his neck was injured from the fall, it is dangerous for him to move."

Knowing that the woman was right which meant a whole new sort of dread to his stomach, Dean placed his hands firmly on the sides of Sam's head – fingers spreading out from Sam's jawline, over his cheeks and to his ears - to halt Sam's movement of his head and to further keep it immobilized.

"Sammy." Dean said. "Come on. Open your eyes."

Sam's eyelids fluttered some more, and the woman next to Dean started moving nervously.

"Maybe you should wait for the ambulance to show up." She suggested but Dean ignored her.

"That's it, Sam." Dean encouraged when Sam's eyes finally blinked open, revealing green eyes that Dean knew so well.

However, Sam didn't seem to even acknowledge Dean's presence as he stared unseeing ahead of him – then began to close his eyes again.

"Sam!" Dean barked at his brother which had the result he'd wanted as Sam's eyes snapped open again. "Stay with me, you hear me?"

Wet, wheezing sounds escaped from Sam's throat with every struggled breath he took, and Dean's heart kept hammering rapidly inside his chest in fear of what the fall had done to his brother.

"Hey, Sammy look at me." Dean said when Sam tried to move his head but was unable to do so with Dean's hands keeping it in place. "You gotta stay still, alright? Try not to move."

Sam's eyes locked on Dean's and as he, to Dean's big delight, finally seemed to recognize the man hovering above him, his lips started moving slightly – although no words came out.

"Don't talk." Dean told his brother and let his thumb gently caress Sam's cheek in a soothing way while the distant sound of sirens could be heard. "Just stay still."

"I can hear the ambulance." The woman said and jumped to her feet as the sirens sounded louder and louder. "I'll guide it here!"

Dean saw her take off from the corner of his eye while he kept his eyes locked on Sam as the younger man's lips moved once again.

"D'n." Sam managed to wheeze out – then started coughing wetly until blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

"It's okay, little brother. I've got you." Dean said in a shaky voice and couldn't stop the tear that now started rolling down his cheek. _Sam looked like he was dying.._

"I've got you." Dean repeated and kept his eyes locked on Sam whose face was now illuminated by flashes of red light as the ambulance pulled up nearby. "You're gonna be just fine, Sammy."

"De-.. Dean.." Sam wheezed out, and gasped for breath as he'd tried to move a bit which had pain suddenly consume him.

"I'm right here." Dean promised and decided, aside from the fact that he hated when Sam was hurting, that it was a good thing that Sam was in pain – 'cause being in pain meant that Sam was at least still _feeling._ "Stay still. Don't try to move, okay?"

Sam moved his lips again but whatever he was trying to say, Dean never knew, because all sounds from the younger Winchester brother was drowned out by the voices of the paramedics that showed up around them.

"Sir, you can move now." One of the paramedics told Dean who reluctantly moved a bit to the side so his hands, which had been placed on the sides of Sam's head, could be replaced by a neck brace.

Once the brace was secured around Sam's neck, the paramedic turned to Dean to question him while the two other medics placed a mask over Sam's mouth and nose and started providing him with oxygen. The youngest Winchester was still wheezing with every ragged breath he took, and Sam's eyes fell shut, then blinked open and fell shut again before opening once more. Dean had a feeling that it was sheer panic that was keeping the younger man from giving in to darkness altogether, so he grasped Sam's hand in his and hoped that the small gesture would offer his brother _some_ comfort at least.

"What's his name?" The paramedic asked the oldest brother.

"It's Sam." Dean answered while watching the paramedics every move and trying his best to stay in the younger brother's view for Sam's sake – although the paramedics kept pushing him out of the way.

"How old is he?" The paramedic asked while quickly scratching down notes.

"23." Dean said. "He's my brother."

"Sam, can you hear me?" A female paramedic asked while using a pocket flashlight to light into Sam's eyes, and then addressed one of her colleagues when Sam didn't answer. "Definitely a concussion but there're signs of increasing intracranial pressure too."

"Stay back." A paramedic told Dean as he hovered over Sam and pushed the oldest Winchester back a little once again.

"You try to push me away from my brother _one more time_ and I'll bash your face in!" Dean growled at the paramedic who startled a bit at the harsh tone of Dean's voice.

"Sir you gotta stand back to make room for the stretcher." The female paramedic reasoned with him and Dean then reluctantly let go of Sam's hand to move back a little.

A stretcher was placed next to the younger brother and while the female paramedic held on to Sam's head to keep the movement as smooth and non-existent as possible, the two other paramedics prepared to roll Sam to his side.

"On three. One, two, three." One of the paramedics counted before they rolled Sam very carefully to his side, quickly worked the stretcher under him and then rolled Sam back in place on top of it.

Pain was evident on the younger brother's face as he got strapped in place on the stretcher so he wouldn't be able to move, and he finally lost the battle against conscious again – to Dean's big concern.

"Sammy?" He called but Sam's eyes remained closed.

"Let's go!" One of the paramedics said before Sam was lifted up from the ground, loaded onto a gurney and was rolled towards the waiting ambulance in a hurry.

"Sir.." One of the paramedics started when Dean followed them into the back of the ambulance.

"I'm not leaving him." Dean quickly said before the paramedic could finish his sentence.

Having figured out that arguing with Dean Winchester about this would be pointless, the paramedic shrugged his shoulders and closed the ambulance doors behind them.

"What's your name?" The paramedic asked the older brother as Dean sat down next to the stretcher and once again took hold of Sam's hand.

"Dean." He answered.

"Alright. Dean, we'll take good care of your brother, okay?" The paramedic said and gave Dean's shoulder a gentle pat before focusing on Sam.

"You stay with me." Dean whispered to Sam and carded his fingers through Sam's messy bangs. "You don't go anywhere without me, you understand? Sammy, please."

Sam remained still and unresponsive – the white fog covering the insides of the oxygen mask by every breath he took the only indicator that Sam was even still alive.

"You stay with me, little brother." Dean ordered the youngest Winchester brother as the ambulance's sirens started blaring and the vehicle tore through the night.


	3. Chapter 3

There's an old saying that goes like this; ' _no news is good news',_ and to a lot of people that saying might have been true _._ But to Dean Winchester, however, that old saying was a bunch of crap. Whoever had come up with that statement had definitely _not_ been a big brother who had watched his little brother being rushed away on a stretcher in the ER and had been waiting impatiently for news about said little brother ever since then.

The first half an hour after Sam had been rolled away, had passed by with Dean anxiously pacing the waiting area back and forth, until he'd been forced to sit down as adrenaline had started wearing off and exhaustion and angst had taken its place. That had also been about the time where one of the ER nurses, after a bunch of persistent attempts, had finally succeeded in leading Dean to an empty curtained cubicle in the ER - when the older Winchester brother had at last given in to being treated for the lacerations he'd received when the werewolf had sent him flying through the glass doors.

That had been several hours ago and Dean was now sitting in a chair by a window; staring emptily ahead of him while the cup of coffee in his hands had turned cold a long time ago. His thoughts circled around the last time the older Winchester brother had been at a hospital, which had been the night where his father had died. Dean could not go through that again – not with Sammy. He would rather die himself than ever having to witness his little brother pass away. Hell, Dean would even make one of those stupid _deals_ with a crossroads demon if that meant that he could save Sam.

"Dean?" A familiar voice suddenly asked and Dean looked up to see Bobby Singer walking towards him.

"Bobby." Dean said, put the cold coffee down and rose from his chair - just in time to get pulled into a hug by the man he considered his surrogate father.

When Bobby pulled back from the hug, the older hunter scanned Dean's face with concern, took in the butterfly bandage that covered a slash on the younger man's forehead, and let a hand linger on Dean's shoulder before giving it a mild squeeze. Dean swallowed hard as the comforting gesture made him feel surprisingly emotional.

"I came here as fast as I could. How is he?" Bobby asked with concern.

"Not good." Dean said and tiredly washed a hand down his face. "It's bad, Bobby. Real frigging bad."

"Did the doctor tell you anything?" Bobby wanted to know as both hunters sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chairs the waiting area was equipped with.

Dean nodded and nervously wrung his hands before letting Bobby in on the situation.

"They took him for a MRI." Dean explained. "Doctor said that they're concerned about the blow Sam took to his head, and what the fall did to his back and neck. In the worst-case scenario, Sam might not.."

Dean couldn't make himself finish the sentence. He cleared his throat as he tried to keep his emotions under control, and Bobby patted his knee.

"I get the picture." Bobby said. "What else did the doc say?"

"He said that.." Dean started and cleared his throat once more before continuing. "He said that there's a risk of brain damage and.. and paralysis."

"Good Lord.." Bobby breathed and shook his head in disbelief.

"I just.. I don't know what to do, Bobby." Dean admitted, leaned forward in his chair with his elbows resting on his thighs and carded both hands through his hair. "I'm gonna lose him - I'm gonna lose Sam. Even if he does make it through this alive, there's still a big risk that he won't be Sam anymore."

"Hey, you listen to me now, boy." Bobby said in a firm voice. "Sam is a tough kid, he'll make it. And no matter what kind of state he's gonna be in, he's still gonna be _your_ brother and he's gonna need you more than ever."

Dean bit his lower lip and nodded his understanding – although Bobby's words had done nothing to comfort him. Sam was the smartest person Dean knew; a straight A-student, pre-law student at Stanford after catching a full-ride scholarship, LSAT score at 174 – downright a frigging _brilliant_ kid. Dean would never forgive himself if Sam's brain had been damaged in the fall he took. And Dean wouldn't think about how Sam would react if he was suddenly unable to ever walk again. Hell, if Dean couldn't even deal with the thought of it right now, how on earth would Sam be able to deal with it? _One issue at a time, Winchester._

"You hear me, Dean?" Bobby asked, tearing Dean out of his depressing thoughts.

"I hear you." Dean mumbled and tried to force himself to think of something else than his little brother's broken body. "Listen, there's another problem.."

"And that is?" Bobby wanted to know.

"The werewolf scratched Sam's shoulder and the doctor has been asking about them. I told him that a mad dog had attacked Sam which had been the cause of his fall from the second floor, but I don't think he believed me." Dean said. "It's probably only gonna be a matter of time before the police shows up here too and starts asking questions about what Sam and I were doing at a private property that now contains two dead bodies."

"Two?" Bobby asked and raised his eyebrows.

"Werewolf killed the housekeeper before we killed him." Dean explained.

"Well, you let me worry about cleaning up the mess out there." Bobby said. "You just focus on that brother of yours."

"I will." Dean sighed. "Thanks Bobby."

"Yeah, yeah." Bobby dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Coffee?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded and glanced at his wrist watch as the older hunter left his side to fetch some coffee for the two of them.

_Where the hell was that damn doctor?_

**_ SPN _**

"Coma?" Dean repeated and looked at the doctor with wide eyes. "You're telling me that Sam's in a coma?"

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Young. You see, your brother has a traumatic brain injury." The doctor explained. "We've put him on respiratory therapy right now to help reduce the amount of swelling to his brain, and so far he has not been responding to our tests."

Dean tried to swallow around the lump that was forming in his throat and nodded at the doctor to continue.

"We're monitoring Sam's neurological and vital signs, but I can't yet tell you if there's been any damage to his physical and cognitive functions. We'll have to wait and see what happens _if_ and w _hen_ Sam wakes up." The doctor said and sent Dean a sympathetic look when the oldest Winchester brother paled by the doctor's words. "What I _can_ tell you though is that we've reset Sam's dislocated shoulder, and cleaned and stitched up the scratches to avoid infection. On a more serious note, Sam also broke his back and fractured his neck in the fall he took, but fortunately the MRI we took showed no signs of injury to his spinal cord."

"So, no paralysis?" Dean carefully asked.

"Not as far as we can see. Considering the circumstances, Sam has been very lucky. However, your brother still had to go through surgery to get a few bone fragments removed that could have caused damage over time, and we're keeping him immobilized to avoid causing any spinal injuries while he heals. We're also treating him with non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medications – in this case ibuprofen - to decrease the swelling and pain." The doctor informed and Dean slowly let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Can I see him?" Dean asked.

"In a minute. I think those two gentlemen over there want to talk to you first." The doctor said and nodded to someone behind Dean before leaving.

The older Winchester brother turned around and his eyes narrowed in annoyance as he saw two uniformed cops advancing – officers Edwards and Harris, to be exact, whom Dean had talked to when he and Sam had posed as FBI agents at the local police station during their research for the werewolf hunt.

"And so we meet again." Officer Harris said to Dean with a strained smile. Dean huffed at the cliché-ish comment and shot the cop a strained smile of his own.

To be honest, Dean understood why the guy didn't like him – the older brother _had_ indeed called the guy a stupid prick and had threatened to knock his smug smile right off of his face at their encounter the day before. To Dean's offence though, Harris _had_ been pissing him off as the cop had made fun of Sam's appearance a couple of minutes beforehand.

"Starsky, Hutch." Dean nodded to them and smirked as he earned himself a couple of glares from the officers. "What can I do for you fellows?"

"You can start by telling us what the hell you and your partner were doing at Charles Goodwin's mansion earlier this night?" Harris said.

"I don't see why that's any of your business. It was a classified federal investigation." Dean said with a sinking feeling in his stomach. _Had the cops found the bodies before Bobby could clear up the mess at the mansion?_

"Federal investigation, my ass!" Harris barked. "The snooping around in the neighbor hood I get – I don't _approve_ of the feds sticking their noses into our business, but I get it. What I _don't_ get is why an eyewitness saw you and your partner attack Mr. Goodwin on his balcony earlier this evening. How do you explain that, dickhead?"

"Leonard." Officer Edwards warned his partner before taking over. "What Officer Harris is trying to say here is that the story you've told the hospital staff doesn't match the story we've heard from the eyewitness. And now Charles Goodwin is missing."

Dean hid his relief at hearing those words; if the police thought that Goodwin was missing then they hadn't found any bodies - which meant that Bobby had succeeded in cleaning up in the mansion before the police had shown up to do an investigation.

"Look, as well as I can't tell _you_ any details about the case we're working, I couldn't share the information with the hospital staff either. Now excuse me, I have more important things to take care of than to chat here all night." Dean said, stuck a hand into his jacket and drew out a card. "If you have more questions, you can talk to my supervisor."

Officer Harris made a frustrated sound as Edwards accepted the FBI business card with Bobby's phone number on it, and Harris shot Dean an angry glare before stepping into his face.

"We'll meet again." Harris said. "And next time we meet, I'll be arresting you. You can count on that!"

"Harris!" Officer Edwards barked.

"Trust me, you do _not_ wanna meet me again." Dean said in a low and dangerous voice and stared right back at Harris without batting an eyelid. "You can count on _that!_ "

"Come on, Harris – we're leaving." Edwards barked once more and grasped the other cop's jacket before pulling him back.

Officer Harris huffed in irritation and stormed away without further ado, while Edwards let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your partner." Officer Edwards told Dean with sincerity before he left as well.

"Yeah.." Dean muttered to himself as his thoughts once more focused on his hurt little brother. "Me too."

**_ SPN _**

When the doctor had told Dean that they were keeping Sam immobilized, the physician hadn't been kidding. The younger Winchester brother's body was strapped to the hospital bed to keep him from moving – except for his left arm that was being supported by a sling – and his neck was held in place by a neck brace. An ugly big tube was sticking out of Sam's throat and mouth and was connected to a ventilator that whooshed in beat with the mechanic rise and fall of Sam's chest. IV-lines attached to the younger man's wrists were providing him with necessary medication and keeping him hydrated, while EKG-pads were attached to Sam's chest, and a clip sensor attached to his finger, to monitor Sam's pulse and heart. A white bandage had been wrapped around Sam's floppy brown hair, and cuts and bruises were visible on the young hunter's skin.

Dean was doing what he'd been doing ever since he'd been allowed into Sam's room in the ICU; the older Winchester brother was sitting in a chair next to Sam's hospital bed and was staring at his broken little brother in complete shock and horror. Sam had been hospitalized more than a few times in his life, but never had it been this serious before. Sam looked like something taken straight out of a science-fiction movie, and Dean had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that Sam was severely comatose and did not respond to lights, sounds or pain even.

"Have you talked to him yet?" A voice suddenly asked, and Dean startled a bit in his chair as he had been so absorbed by the state that Sam was in, that he hadn't even heard the nurse walk into the room.

"No." Dean admitted in a bit of a rusty voice - having actually not said one single word since he'd entered the room twenty-five minutes earlier. Neither had he dared to even come close enough to be able to touch his comatose little brother.

"You're his brother, right?" The nurse asked and continued when Dean confirmed her question with a nod of his head. "Some studies have shown that coma stimulation - including stimuli such as familiar voices and music - has seemed to improve coma recovery. It definitely wouldn't harm him if you tried talking to him."

The nurse smiled at Dean who remained silent, checked Sam's vitals and wrote down numbers on a clip board before she gave the brothers some privacy again. The older brother continued to stare at Sam's unmoving face and the mechanical rise and fall of his chest for a while, until he eventually reached out in a cautious way and closed his hand around Sam's fingers – frowning a bit by the coldness of them.

"Hey Sammy." Dean said in a soft voice and blinked back sudden tears. "You don't need to feel lost anymore, little brother – I'm here now so you can return to the land of the living, alright?"

Sam didn't as much as make a sound or flutter an eyelid. The beeping from the heart monitor and the _whoosh whoosh_ from the ventilator was the only answer Dean got.


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby Singer was standing in the hallway of the ICU, watching the Winchester brothers through one of the windows to Sam's hospital room with an unreadable expression on his face. On the inside though – hidden from any nosy eyes that could fall upon him – Bobby's heart was bleeding. Ever since John Winchester had first left his kids in the older hunter's care, Bobby had considered Dean and Sam his boys as much as they'd been John's boys – even more after John's death that had left Bobby as the only parental figure the boys had left. That was why it was so extremely tough to see one of them down for the count, and especially considering how seriously hurt Sam was in this particular situation.

The younger Winchester brother had been hospitalized for eight days straight and so far his condition hadn't changed one bit. Sam was still comatose; unaware, unmoving and unresponsive to the world around him. Bobby felt uncomfortable every time he stepped into Sam's hospital room since every whoosh from the ventilator shattered his heart into a million pieces as it kept reminding Bobby of the fact that the kid wasn't even breathing on his own. Dean, on the other hand, was dealing surprisingly well – on the outside, at least. Bobby didn't know what exactly had motivated the older brother to do it, but Dean was determinately trying to rouse his little brother by changing Sam's room into Winchester zone. Bobby had, on Dean's demand, brought in an old cassette player on which the older brother had been playing his favorite cassette tapes for Sam.

"Wouldn't it have been better to play some of Sam's favorite songs instead of yours?" Bobby had asked with confusion when Dean had brought in the tapes.

Dean had sent him a wry smile and had dismissed the suggestion with a shake of his head. Bobby had waited for an explanation but Dean hadn't offered him one as he had pushed the play-button on the cassette player and had sat down by his brother's hospital bed once more while the tones of ACDC's _Back in Black_ filled the room. It had taken the salvage yard owner a little while, but Bobby had in the end realized the fact that Dean wasn't trying to reach his little brother with things that _Sam_ liked – he was trying to reach Sam with things that would remind Sam of _Dean._

That was also the reason why Bobby was currently watching Dean tuck his leather jacket a little closer around Sam's shoulders before – to which Bobby raised a questioning eyebrow - waving a cheeseburger and an open beer in front of Sam's nose. The older hunter knew better than to question Dean when it came to Sam though; if anyone could bring Sam back, it was his big brother, so Bobby trusted in the fact that Dean knew what he was doing. Dean discarded the untouched cheeseburger and the beer on the bedside table before resuming his chair next to Sam, then picked up an old worn comic book and started reading aloud from it – all the while Sam continued to be unaware, like he'd been for the past eight days now.

"He seems like a great brother." A male voice said and Bobby turned his head to the side and blinked at the doctor that had shown up next to him.

The doctor gave Bobby a warm smile and nodded in direction of the brothers. Even though the man had had his doubts about Dean's story when Sam had just been brought in, the doctor couldn't deny the fact that the older brother only wanted the best for his little brother and had been trying persistently to affect Sam's recovery.

"Yep." Bobby agreed and followed the doctor's look back to Sam and Dean.

During his read-aloud from the comic book, Dean was drawing circles on Sam's right palm with a finger, which Bobby assumed was another trick from Dean to let Sam know that he was there.

"He rarely leaves his brother's side for more than five minutes at a time." Bobby admitted to the doctor and then swallowed around the lump in his throat.

That was and had always been the biggest part of what made Dean's world go round; to look out for his brother – to protect him and keep him safe. Bobby had seen it from the moment he'd first met the kids. Dean had been such a stoic little man with a smug attitude that couldn't sit still for more than two minutes at a time. But even back then, he'd always kept at least half an eye on Sam at all times. And Sam.. Bobby fought back tears as he thought back at the scrawny but incredibly smart little kid who had followed his brother around nonstop, and had asked a million questions about all and everything from the day he'd learned to talk. The same kid who was now comatose and could be facing paralysis and brain damage – _if_ he even woke back up again.

"Well, whatever he is doing.." The doctor said, bringing Bobby back to their conversation. ".. it's working."

Bobby snapped his head to the side and looked at the smiling doctor with wide eyes as he tried to process what the man had just told him.

"Come again?" He asked and watched as the doctor pulled out some MRI-pictures from a file he was holding in his hand.

"We've been monitoring Sam's brain activity ever since he was admitted." The doctor explained. "Whenever his brother is talking to him or stimulating his senses with music and what else he's been doing, we've seen strong brain activity from Sam."

"You sure?" Bobby asked, wanting to be absolutely certain he was hearing correctly.

"Our machines don't lie, Mr. Singer." The doctor confirmed. "There's hope for your nephew yet."

Bobby let out a long breath in relief and blinked back the sting of tears before turning to look at the brothers again.

"Can I be the one to tell him?" He asked.

"Of course." The doctor said and Bobby quickly excused himself before he grabbed the doorknob to Sam's hospital room, took a big breath and opened up the door to walk inside.

"' _Your parents are gone, but your brother. Your brother is still out there.'_ Lincoln said to Batman. ' _And you'll think to yourself, he'll come for me, won't he? He'll come for me. You wait every day, all day, the owls whispering as the house around you goes to hell._ '" Dean read aloud for Sam as Bobby entered the room. " _'But he doesn't come_. _Only the owls come_.' Harsh, huh Sammy? I guess not all brothers understand the true meaning of family."

The sound of Bobby clearing his voice caught Dean's attention and he glanced at the older hunter before putting the Batman comic book down.

"Hang on Sam. Bobby is here." Dean told his still little brother before turning his attention to Bobby. "What's up?"

"I've got news from Sam's doctor." Bobby said, cutting straight to the chase.

"What news?" Dean wanted to know and sat up straighter in his chair, worriedly glancing at Sam and then back at Bobby.

"Good news." Bobby assured. "Sam's doctor just informed me about the fact that they've been monitoring Sam's brain activity since he was admitted to the hospital."

"And?" Dean asked with nervousness, got up from the chair and started pacing the room – despite Bobby's reassurance about good news.

"The MRI-pictures showed that whenever you're talking to Sam and are trying to stimulate his senses in one way or another, Sam is showing strong brain activity." Bobby revealed while Dean stopped dead in his tracks, his lips parting in revelation to the news. "It means that there's still something going on inside Sam's head, Dean, and you're responsible for the improvement."

Dean swallowed hard several times, big green eyes blinking at Bobby as he took in the words the older hunter had just revealed to him, and then returned to the chair next to Sam's hospital bed without a word spoken. Dean took a hold of Sam's hand and cradled it to his chest before he bowed his head down towards it and let out a shaky breath.

"Thank God, Sammy." He whispered and squeezed Sam's hand tightly. "Thank God."

For the first time in the past eight days, Bobby felt a bit of hope shining down on them.. _and_ for the first time in the past eight days, Dean finally let his guard down a little and shed a silent tear.

**_ SPN _**

What bothered Dean more than anything else was the fact that things were never really straightforward when your last name was Winchester. When Sam had been comatose for ten days and still had to be completely immobilized, the doctors started worrying about the complications of it; bedsores and infections. The hospital staff had been trying to prevent bedsores from happening by carefully – as not to move Sam too much – placing special cushions and pads underneath the most exposed places of Sam's body to relieve pressure and protect vulnerable skin from damage. Dean had insisted on talking to Sam through it all, had explained to the doctors and nurses that if Sam could somehow hear and feel what was going on around him, then Dean wanted to make sure that Sam knew he wasn't alone with a bunch of strangers.

Bobby had had to return to Sioux Falls to get some work done, but the older hunter returned to the hospital on the twelfth day after Dean had called him to tell him that Sam was running a fever and the doctors were concerned about the symptoms of the beginning of pneumonia.

"This is not good, Bobby." Dean said as he met up with the older man outside the hospital. "Why the hell can't we ever catch a break?"

Dean clenched his jaw hard while angrily kicking at an abandoned soda can, and Bobby noticed with concern how ragged the boy had started to look. Dean was looking tired and pale – his face sunken by the cheeks and unshaved.

"How long has it been since you last ate something and slept for more than a few hours at a time?" Bobby asked and Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Dean, I think you should take a trip back to your motel room, get something to eat, take a shower and grab a few hours. I'll look after Sam."

"I can't, Bobby." Dean said and rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand. "I just can't. Not as long as Sam is.."

Dean cut himself off and shook his head, but Bobby understood the meaning of it.

"How's the pneumonia talk coming along?" Bobby wanted to know.

"The doctor is treating Sam with antibiotics and a thing he called _am_ -something- _cillin_." Dean answered. "If we're lucky.." He paused to let out a humorless laugh. ".. then it'll prevent the pneumonia from breaking out and complicating Sam's situation even more."

"He'll pull through, Dean." Bobby said. "Sam's a tough kid – he won't give up without a fight."

"Right." Dean said softly and then clenched his jaw in determination. "And _we're_ not gonna give up on him either."

"Damn straight, boy." Bobby agreed, and the two of them shared a resolute look, before they went inside to be with Sam.

**_ SPN _**

Two weeks after Sam had been hospitalized, he was no longer showing signs of developing pneumonia – to his big brother's big delight. Now that he knew that the things he'd been doing was working, Dean continued to try to reach his little brother and worked even harder with every improvement in Sam's mental state that the doctor made him aware of.

On the sixteenth day, Dean was reading another comic book for Sam while his finger drew circles on the younger man's palm – a thing that had become a habit for the older Winchester brother through the many hours spent at the hospital.

"' _Let's bring the fight to them while the city hides._ ' Robin said. ' _They're people with a lot to lose, Robin._ ' Batman said. ' _What we have to do is show the citizens of Gotham that the Bat is on their side._ '" Dean read aloud from the comic book. "' _As it always has been and always.._ '"

Dean froze midsentence as he felt something touch his hand, and looked down to see Sam's fingers lightly brushing against his.

"Sammy?" Dean asked with a heart that was now hammering rapidly inside his chest. "Sam?"

Dean rose from his chair and looked down at Sam's face; his breath catching in his throat as he saw movement behind Sam's eyelids.

"Sam if you can hear me, squeeze my hand." Dean said and then bit his lower lip hard when Sam's hand remained limp in his. "Squeeze my hand, Sam. Come on."

Dean looked down at Sam's hand again and let out a frustrated sound when the limb remained motionless. Dean _had_ seen and felt Sam's fingers brush against his hand, right? He wasn't just making stuff up because he really wished it was true, right? _Right_?

"Please Sammy. If you can hear me, then.." Dean started but stopped when he felt a very weak but yet no imaginary press to his hand.

Dean then gasped and almost stumbled back in shock when he looked up at Sam's face and saw green eyes blinking back at him.


	5. Chapter 5

"S-Sammy." Dean stuttered out and carefully let his hand rest against Sam's cheek. "Sam, can you hear me?"

Sam blinked drowsily up at Dean with eyes that were unfocused and at half-mast. Dean let his hand move to Sam's forehead and brushed back the younger man's bangs while searching for even the slightest hint of recognition in Sam's eyes – seeing nothing. Right then, Dean realized with dread in his heart that Sam wasn't even looking at _him -_ just looking ahead of him like had Dean not even been present.

"Sam." Dean repeated, trying to get his shaky voice under control and then gasped when Sam's eyes started sliding closed again. "No no no, you stay with me. No sleeping! Sam!"

But Sam's eyes didn't open again. Not even for a short moment. They remained closed - even though Dean kept pleading his brother to stay awake.

"Come on, Sammy. Don't do this to me. Not again." Dean begged in desperation but Sam was lost to the world yet again.

"I don't understand how you can drink so much of this hospital crap." Bobby said as he walked into the room with a Styrofoam cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand. "I think I would rather prefer to drink tar than this gooey.."

Bobby paused when he saw the distressed look on Dean's face.

"What happened?" Bobby asked with a frown.

"Sam opened his eyes a few moments ago." Dean revealed without taking his eyes off his little brother.

"What?" Bobby exclaimed, put the cup of coffee on a table and hurried closer to take a look at the youngest Winchester himself. "He's awake?"

" _Was_ awake." Dean corrected and frantically squeezed Sam's hand again and again in hopes of getting another response from his brother – then let out a frustrated sound as nothing happened. "Now he's gone again. Damn it!"

"Take it easy, cowboy." Bobby told the frenzied older brother. "I'll get the doctor."

Bobby hurried out of the room and returned soon after with Sam's doctor in tow whom Dean figured – judging from the calm look on his face – clearly couldn't have been informed about the seriousness of the situation. How could anyone remain calm when Sam had almost returned to the land of the living, only to slip right out of Dean's grasp once more, just like he'd done that night on the balcony? How could anyone remain calm when Dean felt like he'd failed as a big brother for the second time in only a short period of time?

"He woke up and now he's gone again!" Dean told the doctor while pulling at his hair in frustration.

"Yes, your uncle told me about it." The doctor said and started checking Sam's vitals.

"But that's not normal, is it?" Dean asked and then huffed. "I mean, people don't just wake up from a coma only to slip right back into it, do they?"

"Just hold on and give me a minute." The doctor said, pulled out a small pocket light from his white coat and lifted Sam's eyelids one at a time to light into the younger Winchester brother's eyes.

The doctor then grabbed Sam's chart and wrote down a few notes before trying to rouse Sam by calling his name. Dean knew it would be pointless though – if Sam didn't react when _Dean_ was calling him, then there was no way he would respond to anyone else calling his name.

"Well?" Dean asked the doctor as he lost his patience with the man. "What the hell is going on?"

"Did Sam open his eyes voluntarily or did you encourage him to do so?" The doctor wanted to know.

"He.." Dean started, then hesitated - his forehead wrinkling in concentration as he tried to recall the exact events. "I was reading for Sam when his fingers brushed against my hand."

"He moved his fingers?" Bobby asked with surprise and Dean nodded.

"Movement." The doctor said with an impressed look on his face and wrote in Sam's chart again. "Then what? He opened his eyes?"

"No, I.. I told him to squeeze my hand." Dean said. "But he didn't. Not the first two times I asked, but then his fingers moved again. And when I looked up at his face, his eyes were open."

"Good, that's good." The doctor said with a nod of his head and noted the piece of information. "How long did he stay awake?"

"I don't know. Like half a minute or something like that." Dean sighed, washed a hand down his face and suddenly felt very, very tired. "I just.. I don't understand what's going on here. What is happening to my brother?"

"Sam is improving quite well, that's what happening." Bobby assured the older brother and looked at the doctor for confirmation.

"When patients are in a deep comatose state, they don't respond to any kind of stimuli; they don't move, they don't react to sounds, light, touch, pain, anything. Sam has improved so much over the past two weeks that he woke up for a few seconds and he even moved his fingers." The doctor said, after nodding in confirmation to Bobby's words. "I bet he'll respond to pain stimulation too but I won't put him through that in case he'll jerk and thereby cause potential damage to his spine."

"But.. Does that mean that Sam's moving out of his coma?" Dean asked with hope in his voice.

"Yes, he is." The doctor answered with a smile. "Recovery usually occurs gradually, and regaining consciousness is not instant. In the first days, patients are only awake for a few minutes at a time, and then the duration of time awake slowly increases."

"Wait, let me hear if I've got this right." Dean said. "Does that mean that Sam is basically just asleep right now?"

"More or less." The doctor said with a grimace. "The fact that Sam opened his eyes spontaneously, or in response to being talked to, is a very important factor. But he still has a long way ahead of him, and I still can't tell if there's been any damage to his brain or body functions. We have definitely seen brain activity but whether or not the blow Sam took to his head has caused disabilities, is far too soon to state."

"But he woke up." Dean said, pointing out the most important part for him right now and sat down in the chair next to Sam's bed again. "The rest we'll fix when we get there."

"Yes but you gotta prepare yourself for the possibility that Sam might not function as well as he.." The doctor started when Bobby cut the physician off by putting a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Let him believe what he needs to believe right now." Bobby muttered to the doctor. "We'll deal with the situation whenever we know the outcome for Sam."

"As you wish." The doctor said - although reluctantly - and briefly glanced at the Winchester brothers before leaving the room.

Bobby let out a heavy sigh and then dumped down in the chair on the opposite side of Sam's hospital bed, while watching Dean drawing circles on Sam's palm with a finger once again.

"You're doing great, Dean." Bobby said after a few moments of silence but Dean huffed in disagreement.

"No, _he's_ doing great." Dean said and nodded down at Sam.

"Yeah, thanks to you." Bobby stated. "Don't you for a second believe that Sam would have improved this much if it hadn't been for your unrelenting attempts to pull him back to life."

"He wouldn't even have been in this situation in the first place if it hadn't been for me." Dean said.

"That's not true and you know it!" Bobby said, knowing that Dean always blamed himself for things that were way out of his control. "What happened to your brother wasn't your fault and you know that Sam doesn't think so either. You hear me, boy?"

Dean didn't say anything and Bobby decided not to push the young hunter into a deeper conversation. That wasn't really Dean's kinda thing, Bobby's either - aside from the occasional heart-to-heart talks, of course, that he'd had with the Winchester brothers throughout the years which he'd enjoyed more than he cared to admit. The salvage yard owner swallowed down emotion as he realized that the only one of the three people in the room who truly appreciated the sharing and caring conversations - and who didn't feel ashamed to admit it - was Sam. However, Bobby promised himself that he would happily indulge in any kind of heartfelt dialogue with Sam if only the kid would wake up again.

**_ SPN _**

Dean and Bobby were both present the second time Sam showed signs of awareness. The two hunters had been in the middle of telling an oblivious Sam a story from one of the many times the brothers had spent time in the salvage yard as kids, when a sort of choking sound from the youngest Winchester interrupted the story and had both of them up from their chairs in a heartbeat.

"Sam." Dean said, watching his brother's eyelashes flutter while Sam continued to make choking noises around the tube in his throat.

"Sam can you hear us?" Bobby asked and grasped Sam's hand that was flailing slightly against the sheet of the hospital bed.

"Come on little brother, calm down. Don't try to fight it." Dean told Sam who then suddenly snapped his eyes open, while still making those horrible choking sounds in his throat. "Bobby, he's awake!"

Although seemingly awake, Sam's eyes didn't seem to focus on anyone of them as his eyes stared unseeingly towards the ceiling above them. The younger brother made a few more sounds, then -as suddenly as he'd opened them - closed his eyes and fell still.

"Holy cow.." Bobby muttered and slowly let go of Sam's hand.

"Sam? Sam?" Dean called, refusing to give up that easily.

"He's out again." Bobby sighed.

"No." Dean protested. "Come on Sam."

"You heard what the doctor said, Dean." Bobby told him. "The first couple of days, Sam won't stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. He'll regain conscious little by little, so we have to be patient with him."

"I'm sick of being patient." Dean hissed out with clenched jaw. "I want my brother back."

"Dean.." Bobby began, then wrinkled his forehead in confusion as Dean suddenly stomped towards the exit. "Where're you going?"

"Out!" Dean simply stated before ripping open the door and slamming it closed behind him.

Bobby sighed, stared at the closed door for a few seconds, and then turned back to Sam before sitting down in his chair again.

"Your brother's a real idjit sometimes, you know that?" Bobby asked Sam and was reminded yet again of the crappy situation they were in as Sam remained still and unconscious. "Alright, so where were we? Oh yeah.. So while your daddy was away on the hunt, I taught Dean a few things about how the engine of a car works. You, on the other hand, were far more interested in the old encyclopedia I'd put in front of you, but I guess that wasn't so odd considering you were only three years old by then and already possessed a love for books. You remember that, Sam?"

Bobby blinked against the sting of tears as his question was never answered. The boy in front of him - whom Bobby had come to love as his own - was too far gone to be reached.

**_ SPN _**

The next couple of days contained more of the same; Sam would occasionally wake up but, although the extent of time awake increased by each time, the youngest Winchester remained oblivious to the people around him.

Though Dean kept hoping and wishing and begging even, he couldn't help but wonder if his Sam – the heartfelt little brother he had raised; the smart, independent, ex law-student that never failed to impress Dean with his knowledge time and time again – was lost forever. Sam had always been Dean's reason to get out of bed in the morning, had always been the single most important thing in Dean's life, and that wouldn't change even if Sam did end up being damaged in more ways than Dean could comprehend at the moment. But the mere thought of something like that to be the inevitable outcome for Sam, shattered Dean's heart to pieces and almost made him collapse into heart-wrenching sobs.

But, despite the sadness of the situation, Sam did improve on a daily basis. After having determined through different kinds of tests that Sam was ready for it, the doctor gradually started weaning Sam off the ventilator to make sure that the youngest Winchester was stable enough to be fully extubated. The main criterion for being able to remove the tube though was for Sam to be alert enough to make it happen – which was a bit of a problem considering Sam's lack of acknowledgement towards anything or anyone around him on the short amounts of time he was awake.

It took Sam three days from the first time he opened his eyes in the hospital before he once again did something that made Dean want to cry in relief. Dean had just returned from a bathroom run when Bobby told him that Sam had woken up again, so Dean walked up to his brother's bedside and announced his presence with a smile and a "Hi Sam".

And Sam _looked_ at him. Since the younger brother's head was still held immobilized, Sam was unable to turn his head, but he did turn his eyes away from the ceiling above him and _looked_ at Dean as a response to being talked to. The older Winchester brother still didn't find any signs of recognition in Sam's eyes but he did find some kind of awareness in the green eyes he knew so well.

"Bobby, will you get the doctor?" Dean asked the older hunter in a hurry without losing eye contact with Sam.

"Yeah, hang on." Bobby said and quickly departed the room without needing an explanation. He too had seen Sam's eyes find Dean's.

"Hey there little brother. Good to see you, buddy." Dean smiled.

Sam blinked at his big brother – a little wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as he kept his eyes locked on Dean's; eyes moving slightly to keep up with the movement whenever Dean shifted in front of him. Dean kept smiling at his brother, grasped Sam's hand to furthermore establish contact and gave it a gentle squeeze to further stimulate Sam's senses.

"You're in the hospital, Sleeping Beauty. The doctor will remove the tube from your throat soon." Dean promised while briefly wondering how much of what he said Sam was able to understand – if any of it.

Dean's breath then caught in his throat as he felt how Sam slowly moved his fingers in his grasp and weakly squeezed Dean's hand in return.

"Sammy." Dean said and made sure to talk slowly and keep his voice clear for his next question. "Do you know who I am?"

The wrinkle between Sam's eyes grew bigger and Dean had a hard time staying composed as the question lingered in the air.

"Sam, if you know who I am; squeeze my hand again." Dean told his younger brother. "Please."

But no matter how much Dean wished they would, Sam's fingers did not move again. Dean bowed his head down, closed his eyes for a few seconds and let out a shaky breath before looking at Sam again through blurry eyes.

"It's okay." Dean assured his brother, and then tried to smile while carding a hand through Sam's bangs. "It's okay. It's okay, Sammy. It's okay."

**_ SPN _**

After Bobby and the doctor had arrived to the room, and the physician had succeeded in removing the tube from Sam's throat without too much trouble and had replaced it with a nasal cannula, the doctor announced that he would return later to evaluate Sam's condition since the younger Winchester brother was too exhausted to stay awake for much longer.

As soon as the doctor had left, the situation became too much for Dean to bear and he couldn't stand to be in the room any longer. Knowing that he was on the edge of breaking, the older Winchester brother tore his eyes away from Sam's and disappeared into the small bathroom attached to the room. A few seconds later, the sound of glass being shattered could be heard through the closed door, and the sound made Bobby jump up from his chair.

"That boy's gonna be the death of me." Bobby muttered on his way to the bathroom. "I'll be right back, Sam."

While an argument soon arose from the bathroom and could be heard through the thin walls of the room, no one witnessed the tear that formed in the corner of Sam's eye and slowly rolled down his cheek. Neither did anyone see the efforts Sam made of moving his lips or hear the small squeak that eventually left his mouth.

"D'n."


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm fine Bobby, leave me alone." Dean told the older hunter as Bobby not so gently nudged him back into Sam's room and pushed him down in a chair.

"Yeah? Well, tell that to your sick grandma 'cause you ain't fooling me!" Bobby said and continued his rant while Dean gave him a bitchy look. "You're lucky that that hand of yours doesn't seem to need stitches. Now sit tight while I find some gauze, ya idjit."

Bobby stomped out of the room, leaving a silence behind that was only interrupted by the steady beats from the heart monitor Sam was attached to. Dean sighed heavily and dabbed at his bloody knuckles with the towel Bobby had snatched from the bathroom – the white color of the fabric turning crimson by each pat – while welcoming the little spurts of pain that came along with it.

The older Winchester brother felt a little bit better now that he'd been able to release some of the anger and sorrow that had been building up inside of him during the three weeks Sam had been hospitalized. It was a bit unfortunate though that the bathroom mirror had been the one to pay the price for Dean's outburst – his hand as well – but at least he now felt more clear-headed and somewhat more focused to handle the next stages on the road to Sam's recovery. Besides, a shattered mirror was a far better outcome than breaking down in sobs which he had been way too close to do. Dean shuddered by the mere idea of it – see _that_ was something he would rather save for a time and place where no one was able to see him. Dean Winchester didn't do sobs – especially _not_ in front of people. Period. More to the point, he needed to stay composed through this - for Sam's sake.

Speaking of Sam.. Dean turned his head and looked at his little brother, who had closed his eyes again at some point during Dean's time in the bathroom, and the older brother bit his lower lip as guilt washed over him. Every second Sam was awake was precious to Dean, and he couldn't believe he'd actually missed out on some of it because he hadn't been able to suppress his frustration. Dean couldn't be sure of how much Sam was able to understand of the things going on around him - if he recognized anything or _anyone_ (Dean quickly skipped past that thought) in his surroundings - but Sam had been awake when Dean had stormed off. And he had been left all alone without being able to do anything - yet alone move or talk.

What if Sam was more aware of the things going on around him than anyone believed?

What if he had needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't going through this alone – if Sam even knew what _it_ was?

What if Sam had been scared?

What if he had tried to say something and Dean hadn't been there to hear what it was?

_What if, what if, what if..?_

"Stop it." Dean muttered to himself - then reached a hand out to adjust the leather jacket that was still draped over Sam's chest.

As the older brother tucked the jacket up to Sam's chin, his forehead furrowed in wonder as his hand brushed against some kind of wetness on Sam's jawline. Dean moved his hand up in front of his face and studied the wetness for a second before looking down at Sam again – leaning a bit closer to his brother to figure out the cause of the moisture.

And that's when Dean noticed it – almost completely dried off but definitely there; a tear track on Sam's cheek.

"Oh, Sammy.." Dean said softly - then wiped off the remains of the tear on Sam's cheek with a gentleness that most people wouldn't have known he possessed.

Sam had been crying, Dean realized, and clenched his jaw while fighting the urge to cry himself.

Sam had been all alone and he'd been frigging _crying_. This meant that - at some point, for some reason - Sam had felt overwhelmed, and no one had been there to see it or to comfort him. More importantly; _Dean_ hadn't been there.

"I'm so sorry." Dean whispered to his little brother. "I should have been here. I'm sorry, Sammy."

Sam, of course, didn't answer but Dean found solace in the fact that Sam was at least in a more natural state of sleep now than he'd been when deeply comatose. It also helped a lot that Sam no longer had that ugly piece of tube sticking down his throat.

"It's the small victories, right?" Dean said and brushed a strand of hair away from Sam's forehead. "One day at a time?"

Bobby soon return to the room with a roll of gauze in hand and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide in the other, and barked at Dean to reach his hand out so that Bobby could care for it. Not up for another argument with the grumpy old hunter and still lost in thoughts about Sam, Dean extended his hand to Bobby automatically while keeping his eyes at Sam.

"Has he been awake while I was gone?" Bobby asked in a softer tone than his previous rant and dabbed at Dean's knuckles with the peroxide.

"No, he's out." Dean replied and grimaced as the peroxide stung his knuckles.

"Anything else I should know about then?" Bobby asked while raising an eyebrow - sensing that Dean wasn't telling him everything and Bobby couldn't figure out if it was something of importance or not.

"No." Dean said, then sighed and turned his head towards Bobby. "How much do you think he's able to understand? What do you think?"

"Sam?" Bobby asked and continued when Dean nodded. "You heard the doctor, Dean. It's too early to say anything about Sam's mental state. We have to wait for the evaluation."

"Screw the evaluation!" Dean exclaimed. "You and I know him better than anyone, so I'm asking you; what do you think?"

Bobby let out a heavy sigh and silently started wrapping gauze around Dean's hand before finally speaking up.

"Look, I can't tell you whether or not Sam will catch a full recovery after this – I'm not a damn doctor, Dean." Bobby said and continued before Dean could interrupt him. "But I know this; Sam is not a quitter and he's a very stubborn kid. You know how he gets when he's set his mind on something; if anyone can pull through this, it's Sam."

"But what if he doesn't want to?" Dean asked, surprising even himself with the sudden thought. "I mean, what if he decides that this is it for him? After what happened to Jess and Dad, and with the message Dad left behind.."

"He won't." Bobby assured, cutting Dean off before he could continue that line of thought.

"How do you know?" Dean asked.

"Because of one big reason.." Bobby said and tied a knot on the gauze before looking at the older Winchester brother. "You. As long as you're still here, Sam will find a way to return to you. He always has."

The two hunters stared at each other for a few moments before Dean turned his head to look at Sam again, wishing to God that Bobby was right. With both their parents gone, Sam was not only (and always had been) the most important person in Dean's life – he was also the only one Dean had left. And he simply refused to go on without his little brother.

"I might know him Dean, but you know him better than anyone else.. What do _you_ think?" Bobby wanted to know.

Dean glanced at where the tear track had been on Sam's face and swallowed down emotion before turning to look at the older hunter.

"I think there's hope for him yet." Dean said.

**_ SPN _**

Dean was still lost in thoughts about Sam's current state of mind when a nurse entered the room the following day to change the IV-bag with fluids that was attached to Sam's arm. The younger Winchester brother had not opened his eyes since the previous day but Dean refused to leave his brother's side at any times – just in case Sam woke up again since Dean needed to be there when he did. That was why Bobby was currently on a burger run while the oldest Winchester stayed in Sam's hospital room and kept vigil over his brother.

"How are you holding up?" The nurse asked, while removing the empty fluid bag and replacing it with a new one.

"I'm managing." Dean answered and thought about the tear track he'd spotted on Sam's face before directing his concern to the nurse in the room. "Do you know if he's in pain? Is he getting enough pain medication?"

"You don't need to worry." The nurse answered. "The doctor is administrating the medicine just fine, so your brother shouldn't be able to feel a thing."

Dean huffed a bit over the nurse's choice of words. It didn't exactly ease his worries if Sam couldn't feel a thing since the older brother was still concerned about whether or not Sam would be suffering from some kind of paralysis – although Sam's doctor had assured Dean that Sam, despite having broken his back and fractured his neck, didn't seem to have any damages to his spinal cord at least. However, it was still a bit of a relief to Dean that he had at least seen Sam move his right hand a few times during the past couple of days.

"All the nurses on this floor are keeping your brother in their prayers." The nurse revealed.

Dean quirked a small smile. Leave it to Sam to win over the hearts of everyone in the nursing staff without having to do anything.

"If there's anything I can do, and I mean _anything -_ " The nurse emphasized. "- then let me know."

She shot Dean a bright smile before leaving the room and the older Winchester brother quickly checked out her behind before nodding approvingly. If the circumstances had been different, he would definitely have hit on her.

As he turned his head back around to look at Sam again, he almost startled as he found his little brother staring back at him.

"Jesus, Sam. Thanks for the heart attack.." Dean muttered and then smiled at his brother. "Hi Sammy."

Sam didn't say anything. He just blinked at Dean a few times - then suddenly turned upset.

"Whoa Sam! What?" Dean asked and furrowed his eyebrows in concern while trying to figure out the cause of Sam's sudden distress. "What's going on? Sammy, what?"

Sam didn't utter a word but opened and closed his hand repeatively as if trying to tell Dean something – the heart monitor picking up speed and worrying the older brother even more. At first Dean assumed that Sam was in pain and almost pushed the call button until he suddenly realized that Sam was simply trying to reach him but couldn't do so because he was still strapped in place.

"It's okay, calm down." Dean told his brother and grasped Sam's flailing hand before giving it a mild squeeze. "You're okay. You're okay."

Sam visibly relaxed, now that Dean had his hand in his, and the heart monitor slowly followed suit – easing Dean of one of his worries. With Sam calm yet again, Dean figured he didn't wanna wait for the doctor to check up on Sam but instead decided to do his own evaluation of his little brother.

"Sam." Dean said and waited until he was sure that Sam was listening before he repeated his question from the day before. "Do you know who I am?"

Sam just blinked at him and Dean took a deep breath before adding: "Sam, if you know who I am, then squeeze my hand. Okay?"

Dean held his breath as he waited for his brother to squeeze his hand - then felt a lump in his throat as Sam never squeezed his hand back.

"I'm your big brother." Dean told Sam in a shaky voice. "Don't you know that? Don't you even remember me?"

When there still wasn't any sort of acknowledge from Sam, Dean turned a bit away from his brother to try to compose himself – not wanting to let Sam see how much this was upsetting him. It was while Dean was in the middle of humming Metallica to himself to calm down, that he suddenly felt a weak squeeze to his hand, and the older Winchester brother quickly snapped his head back to look at Sam – surprised by the sudden squeeze and the tears that had welled up in Sam's eyes.

"Sam?" Dean asked in a hopeful way.

Sam's lips moved but it took him a few moments before he was able to get any words out, and when he finally did, Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"D'n." Sam croaked out and Dean's stoic façade crumbled to little pieces by the sound of it. "D'n. Dean. Dean."

"I'm right here, Sammy." Dean said through quivering lips, and lost the battle against the tear that started rolling down his cheek while his eyes were locked with Sam's. "Welcome back, little brother."

**_ SPN _**

"Sam, can you tell me where you are?" The doctor asked and wrote down a few more notes in his papers while waiting for the youngest Winchester to answer the question.

"Hospital." Sam said and the doctor nodded.

"That's right." The doctor said. "And what day is it?"

Sam's eyes moved from the doctor to Dean, and the older brother smiled encouraging back at him. The exchange warmed Bobby's heart. He was seated in a chair on the opposite side of Sam, keeping quiet through it all as not to confuse the boy even more. Sam's mind was fragile enough as it was at the moment and his brain working on overload, so he didn't need Bobby to cut in on the conversation as well. Besides, Bobby could see how much the questions had already exhausted the younger brother.

"Monday?" Sam guessed and Bobby closed his eyes at the wrong answer.

"It's Friday." The doctor announced – for the third time during his evaluation – but Dean kept smiling encouraging to his brother nonetheless. "And do you remember what my name is?"

"Doctor.." Sam started, then hesitated and fell silent for a few moments. "I can't remember."

"It's okay, Sam." The doctor assured. "I'm Dr. Garrison."

Once the doctor was through with his questions, he moved on to the physical examination. The first thing the doctor did, was to remind Sam to be careful not to move too much if he was asked to move a certain part of his body - while Dean worried more about whether or not Sam would be able to move _at all_.

"Okay Sam, I want you to tell me if you feel any of this." The doctor said and moved down to Sam's feet. "Or if you don't feel anything."

Sam looked at Dean again and the older brother nodded in confirmation.

"Okay." Sam answered.

"I'm going to squeeze your toes very carefully now." The doctor said and then started by Sam's right foot. "You feel this?"

"Yes." Sam answered, and Dean and Bobby both let out a breath of relief.

"Can you wiggle your toes for me?" The doctor asked and nodded approvingly when Sam did so.

After establishing that Sam's right side of his body was functioning perfectly well, the doctor moved on to the left side – again starting by the toes.

"You feel this?" The doctor asked – then frowned when Sam didn't immediately answer.

"Sam?" Dean asked and nervously moved his weight from one foot to the other while waiting for Sam to say something.

"I.." Sam started and furrowed his forehead. "Not really."

" _Not really_?" Dean repeated. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let me ask the questions, please." The doctor said to Dean – not knowing how damn lucky he was that Dean was too worried about whether or not Sam could feel his toes, to kick the doctor's ass for that remark. "Do you not feel anything at all or do you feel only a little bit of this?"

"I can feel a little bit." Sam revealed. "But it's a tingling feeling like.. it's asleep or something."

"I see." The doctor said and wrote down more notes in his papers.

"What does this mean, doc?" Dean asked.

"Dean.." Bobby started.

"No, I want answers, damn it!" Dean exclaimed.

"Dean." Bobby said again – this time more insistently, and nodded towards Sam when Dean finally looked at the older hunter.

Dean turned his attention to Sam and then noticed that Sam was beginning to look rather distressed by the sudden commotion.

"Crap." Dean muttered, and quickly calmed himself down before walking closer to his brother. "It's okay, Sammy. No need to worry, alright?"

While Dean worked on comforting Sam, the doctor finished up the examination and then stepped outside to talk the evaluation through with Bobby - while Dean stayed behind with Sam.

"So?" Bobby asked as soon as the door was closed behind them.

"Sam's mental state is very promising." The doctor said and flipped through his papers to read his own notes. "His language is acceptable and he doesn't seem to have much trouble understanding people or the things he is asked to do. His short-term memory is a bit impaired, but that's normal in cases of head injuries and that will most certainly improve the longer Sam gets in his recovery. I can't say anything about his emotional state and whether or not he is behaving differently than normally, but my overall judgment is that Sam's going to recover fully from his head trauma."

"That's great news." Bobby said. "What about his physical exam?"

"Well.." The doctor said – then hesitated and let out a heavy sigh before continuing. "Sam's right side of his body seems to be functioning pretty well but I'm more worried about his left side. It's a positive thing that he is able to feel a little bit because that means that he's at least not suffering from paralysis. However, I believe that the fracture Sam has in his neck is what is causing the loss of sensation. I'll have to take a closer look at the x-rays we took of Sam's neck and maybe do some more tests to establish where the problem is and how to fix it. We might be talking surgery here."

"Good lord.." Bobby mumbled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Dean's gonna freak out. Sam too."

"I'll return with more news for you when I know more." The doctor assured before excusing himself and leaving.

Bobby let out a deep sigh and took a few moments to himself to clear his head while trying to figure out the best way to share the news with the Winchesters.

"Balls!" He barked and directed a bunch of curses towards the damn _universe_ for causing so much misfortune for the youngest Winchester.

Bobby then grasped the doorknob, opened up the door and went back inside Sam's room while mentally preparing himself for the upcoming struggles. Even though he had improved so much, Sam was definitely not out of the woods yet, and Bobby knew they would be in for another couple of tough days.


	7. Chapter 7

"I don't like it, Bobby." Dean said while keeping an eye on his little brother through the glass pane outside Sam's hospital room.

Sam was asleep so Dean had taken advantage of the time Sam was out, to step outside and share his concerns about his brother with the older hunter. Dean had been anything but happy when Bobby had let him in on the doctor's evaluation of Sam, and Dean had been even less happy when the older brother had transmitted the information to Sam – especially because the younger brother's impaired short-term memory made him forget what Dean had told him over and over again. It had taken Dean at least half a dozen of repetitions before the information finally stuck with his brother - and when it finally did, Dean immediately regretted telling Sam anything at all since the youngest Winchester had soon started to panic. It had then taken Dean at least half a dozen of reassurances before Sam had finally calmed down enough for the older brother to stop worrying about whether or not Sam's panic attack would hurt him even more than he already was.

"It's bad enough that Sam's not fully able to feel and use his left side, but surgery?" Dean mused. "I just got him back, Bobby. I can't lose him again."

"Dean." Bobby said and waited for the younger man to look at him before he continued. "If the doctor thinks that surgery is the best solution for Sam to regain sensation in the left side of his body, then maybe we should listen to him – he's the doctor after all. Besides, Sam won't suddenly regress on us from one moment to another. The doctor said neck surgery, not brain surgery. It's not like he's gonna poke around inside Sam's head."

"Yeah well, it's still surgery." Dean said and looked through the glass at Sam again.

Seeing the peaceful look on the younger brother's face now, it was hard to believe that Sam had been so upset earlier but, because of his head trauma, Sam's emotions were all over the place. It had especially been tough when Sam had been through another MRI scan – this time while being conscious - that had frightened the youngest Winchester so much that he had ended up in tears by the time he had finally been taken out of the machine again. Sam's head was still healing from the trauma it had gone through and Dean knew he had to give his brother time to recover, but that didn't mean that it didn't still hurt him to see Sam so lost and distressed as his confused mind tried to process the things going on around him.

"We both knew this wouldn't be a walk in the park, son." Bobby said. "It's a miracle that Sam has recovered as much as he has until now, so don't doubt your brother's strength – he's as strong as an ox, that boy."

"I don't doubt his strength." Dean said and shot Bobby an annoyed glance for even implying that Dean had doubts about Sam. "I'm just worried about him."

"As you should be – he's your brother after all." Bobby acknowledged. "I'm just saying that the doctor probably knows best in this situation. Whether we like it or not."

He said the last part with a bitter look on his face. Bobby hated it, as much as Dean did, to leave their youngest's destiny in the hands of other people; strangers that were trying to do their best for Sam, but who didn't care for Sam the way Dean and Bobby did. To those people, Sam was just another life to save – to Dean, he was everything.

"Excuse me." A voice said and both hunters turned around to see Sam's doctor approaching them. "Can we have a word?"

After seeing the hesitating look on Dean's face as he looked between the physician and his sleeping brother, the doctor added; "It won't take long, but it's about Sam."

"I'll keep an eye on him in the meanwhile." Bobby promised when he saw Dean's hesitation. "I'll get you if he wakes up."

Dean nodded to Bobby and then finally gave in.

"It better be good." Dean said to the doctor, but still reluctantly moved away from the glass pane – losing sight of Sam as he did so – and followed the doctor to an adjacent room. "So, what's going on?"

"As you can see, the fall Sam took broke his back in multiple places." The doctor said, and pointed at the breaks that were visible on the x-ray pictures that he'd placed on a light board on the wall. "If there had been any damage to his spinal cord, Sam would most certainly – depending on the intensity of it – either had suffered from temporary or permanent paralysis."

Dean winced a bit as he studied the breaks in the vertebral bones in Sam's back. No wonder Sam was being held immobilized; those breaks looked pretty damn serious and pretty damn painful. Dean once again hoped that Sam was being given the right amount of pain relievers (even though Sam hadn't been complaining much about pain so far) – if not, then Dean would personally show the doctor what real pain felt like.

"I'm not worried about the breaks in Sam's back though." The doctor continued, happily unaware of Dean's thoughts. "Compared to the tests we made when he was first rolled into this hospital three weeks ago, the breaks are slowly healing so I'll estimate that they'll be completely healed in about five to seven weeks."

"That long?" Dean asked, knowing that it would be absolutely horrible for Sam to stay on bed rest for so many weeks.

"Broken bones don't just mend overnight – it takes time." The doctor said. "But it's not Sam's back that is causing trouble right now. Your brother is experiencing loss of sensation in his left arm and hand, as well as in the left side of his lower extremities, but it's important to note that his shoulder did also just heal from a dislocation. Sam's arm needs rehabilitation – like his back does too when it has healed long enough."

"Alright.. But what is the verdict then?" Dean wanted to know. "You mentioned surgery?"

"Yes." The doctor said, took down the x-ray pictures of Sam's back and switched them with x-rays of Sam's neck instead. "Neck fractures are to be taken very serious, and your brother's case is definitely no exception. I will recommend surgery to try to fix the nerve damage."

"There's no other solution?" Dean asked.

"Well, it's always a possibility to wait until the bones are completely healed, and Sam has been going through rehabilitation, to see if the spinal nerves will improve over time. But there's a big chance that they won't, which means that Sam will probably struggle with loss of sensation in his left side for the rest of his life." The doctor said.

"Jesus.." Dean mumbled and felt a sudden tiredness wash over him. _Why couldn't Sam ever catch a frigging break?!_

"Talk to your brother and your uncle about it." The doctor suggested. "But I don't need Sam's consent for the procedure since he doesn't have the capacity to give me one - if that's the solution we're going with at least."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked and unconsciously clenched his fists as anger bubbled inside of him. "You're not doing anything to Sam without his consent, you understand me?"

"I'm not making him do anything against his wishes." The doctor said and raised his hands in defense - eyeing Dean's clenched fists warily. "But I cannot obtain consent for surgery from Sam because his mind is impaired at the moment. I'm not saying that Sam won't _understand_ the information I give him but I reckon he won't _remember_ it, and that's why I can't use his consent."

Dean pinned the doctor with a glare. Although what the doctor said was true about Sam, Dean still didn't like the way he made Sam sound like he was someway incompetent. Dean Winchester's little brother was far from incompetent, and Dean hated that the doctor didn't have a clue about how intelligent Sam actually was. His brother deserved to be acknowledged for the brilliant kid that he was.

"Who's Sam legal guardian?" The doctor asked and still eyed Dean's fists that the older brother had yet to unclench.

Dean looked surprised by the question – then raised his eyebrow at the (to him) ridiculous question.

"I am." Dean said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Really?" The doctor asked with surprise. "I mean, I just thought that maybe your uncle or your parents were.."

"Look, I'm losing my patience here." Dean said, cutting the doctor off with an annoyed look on his face. "Get to the point, doctor. I don't have time for this."

"Right, sorry." The doctor apologized. "Since you're Sam's legal guardian, it's your consent I need to perform the surgery."

"Alright." Dean said. "I'll get back to you when I've thought it through and talked to Sam."

"Fair enough. But I need to warn you; in Sam's current state, the thought of surgery may overwhelm him." The doctor said as he followed Dean towards the exit of the room, and the advice made Dean huff.

"I'm sorry doc, but if there's one thing I don't need any lectures about, it's on how to handle my brother." Dean said and pinned the doctor with a look that dared him to say otherwise, before he left the room.

**_ SPN _**

The first thing Sam saw when he opened his eyes, was the white-colored ceiling above him. As he slowly blinked his eyes into focus, he noticed that the ceiling didn't look cracked or stained – no painting peeling off like it often did at the motel rooms they usually stayed in. It was just plain white and smooth, reminding Sam of the sterile surroundings of a hospital room.

 _Hospital.._ That was exactly where he was, wasn't it?

Sam could hear the steady beating of a heart monitor and felt the presence of the nasal cannula that was providing him with oxygen. Yup, he was definitely at a hospital, but the greater question was _why_ he was at a hospital? What was going on?

The younger Winchester brother clenched his eyes shut as flashes of events started flying through his mind - like pieces of a puzzle he struggled to put together to a whole picture. Sam felt so tired and disorientated, and on the edge of panicking about being in this situation he couldn't understand. He couldn't remember why he was at the hospital, although he was pretty sure that someone had already told him the reason. But what was it? And who? Sam searched his throbbing head and sighed in relief as one person came to mind. _Dean._ Dean was here and Dean was looking after him. Sam was absolutely certain of it. And if his big brother was there, then Sam didn't need to panic. He was okay. Dean was making sure he was okay.

The youngest Winchester brother also recalled Bobby's presence, and something about a doctor named.. well, Sam couldn't exactly remember the name of him, and he couldn't remember why it was supposed to be so important anyway. What the hell was going on with him? Why was it so difficult to think clearly?

Sam felt completely drained of energy as he blinked his eyes open and once again stared at the white ceiling above him. His limbs felt heavy and useless, and a tingling sensation in his left arm and leg had slowly started to irritate him. As he tried to move his hand to force the feeling away, Sam felt a dull pain in his body and then realized with sudden alarm that he was barely able to move more than a couple of fingers.

The heart monitor picked up speed as Sam's rising panic made his heart hammer away. The younger Winchester brother struggled to move, and then panicked even more when he realized that he couldn't, that something was keeping him in place.

"Sam! Calm down before you hurt yourself, boy." A familiar voice said but Sam was too distressed to figure out who it belonged to. "Sam? Balls.. Just calm down, you're alright."

A rugged hand grasped Sam's right hand and gave it a squeeze, and Sam let the feeling slowly ground him. While still struggling with the panic that was threatening to consume him, Sam squeezed the hand back and blinked as Bobby's face showed up above him.

"That's it." He said and gave Sam a smile. "You're doing good, son."

"Bobby?" Sam asked. "What's happening to me? Why can't I move? Where's Dean?"

Bobby's forehead furrowed in what looked like worry to Sam, and the heart monitor picked up speed once more as Sam suddenly feared that something had happened to his big brother.

"Jesus, kid. He's just.." Bobby started but was cut off by Sam before he could finish his answer.

"Dean? Where's Dean? Where is he, Bobby? Where's Dean?" Sam asked so quickly that Bobby hadn't got a chance to answer the question. "Dean! Dean!"

"Sam!" Dean's voice shouted back at him a few seconds before Dean's face showed up in his line of vision. "Hey hey hey, easy there. What's going on, Sammy?"

Dean put a hand on Sam's chest and Sam let out a small sob as Dean gently rubbed his hand back and forth - the warmth slowly seeping through his skin and giving the younger brother something to focus on and hold on to.

"What the hell, Bobby? You said you would get me if he woke up, dammit!" Dean barked at the older hunter.

"Yeah, like _you_ would have been able to leave him if he was this upset." Bobby huffed out.

"Why can't I move?" Sam asked before Dean could answer Bobby, and the older brother then looked at Sam with the same kind of concern that Bobby had shown just before Dean had turned up. "What's wrong with me?"

"Sam, we had this conversation yesterday, remember?" Dean asked, exchanged a look with Bobby and then continued when Sam didn't say anything. "You took a pretty bad fall on our werewolf hunt, and had to be taken to a hospital. You have a broken back and a fractured neck, so you've been strapped down to avoid any damage to your spinal cord. You also hit your head pretty damn hard so that's why you're feeling confused right now."

"Am I.." Sam started, then hesitated and drew in a big breath before continuing. "Am I.. paralyzed?"

"No." Dean immediately said. "You're not paralyzed, alright? Your bones just needs time to heal, that's all."

Sam missed the look Bobby sent Dean as he once again tried to move his left hand and got the same result as the last time he tried; only a couple of fingers moved, and Sam then let out a frustrated sound.

"Don't lie to me, Dean!" Sam said and blinked back the sudden sting of tears. "I might have hit my head but I'm not stupid. What aren't you telling me?"

"Sam, I'm not.." Dean started, then sighed and hesitated for a few moments before he continued. "Do you seriously not remember the doctor's evaluation of you yesterday?"

The younger brother stared back at the worried eyes in front of him, and tried to make his confused mind cooperate. A fall? Being hospitalized? Sam didn't remember any of it – couldn't even recall that they'd been on a werewolf hunt. But as Dean patiently explained to him what the doctor had concluded, Sam slowly began to put together the flashes of pictures he'd seen in his head earlier. After a little while, a lot of the pieces in the puzzle were still missing from his memory and would probably never return, but Sam had a somewhat clear idea of the overall picture – although he didn't exactly like what he remembered.

"I don't want surgery, Dean." Sam said when the older brother had let him and Bobby in on the latest conversation with Dr. Garrison.

"I know you don't, okay? Believe me, I know." Dean said in a soft voice. "But this is not something stupid like a face-lift or removal of a third nipple - we're talking about your ability to walk here! This is a serious matter, Sam."

The younger brother closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He hated to be forced to stay immobilized when all he wanted to do was get up and pace the room in frustration. But that was the whole problem, right? Sam _couldn't_ pace the room even if he wasn't strapped in place and the bones in his back hadn't been broken. Would he actually take the chance and hope that the damage would heal over time, when there was a possibility that surgery could save him from the risk of spending the rest of his life in a wheelchair? Sam once more fought against the sting of tears as his thoughts spun around in a confusing loop inside his mind - making his head throb even more than it already did. God, his emotions were all over the place! Anger, sadness, angst, frustration – they were all there.

"Sam?" Dean asked, effectively bringing Sam's chaotic twirl of thoughts to a halt.

The youngest Winchester spent a few more seconds trying to suppress the tears that still threatened to spill, before he opened his eyes back up to look at his older brother.

"Talk to me." Dean demanded in a mild voice.

"I'm scared." Sam admitted in a barely audible voice, and then – to his big frustration– lost the battle against the tears that soon started rolling down his cheeks. It was even more frustrating to Sam that he couldn't even wipe the tears away as he was still held immobilized to the hospital bed.

"I'm gonna get some coffee." Bobby mumbled and left the room to give the brothers a little privacy while Dean's eyes remained locked with Sam's.

"Listen to me." Dean said and discreetly wiped the tears off Sam's cheeks with his thumb as he sensed his brother's frustration. "I wouldn't even make this suggestion if I believed it would cause you any harm. You know that."

"I also know that a lot of things can go wrong on the operation table." Sam said as Dean wiped away a few more tears from the younger man's face.

"Nothing's gonna happen to you. Not on my watch, you hear me?" Dean said and Sam couldn't help but snort.

"You do know you're not actually allowed in the OR, right?" Sam asked and Dean smiled.

"We'll see about that." Dean said with a wink. "And shut up, smartass. Don't think I won't kick your ass once you're back on your feet!"

"I would like to see you try." Sam smirked and Dean chuckled a little before they both turned serious again.

"Seriously though.. I won't let anything happen to you, Sammy." Dean said. "We'll get through this. I promise."

**_ SPN _**

Sam's doctor had been quite surprised when Dean had not only given him his consent for Sam's surgery, but had given him _Sam's_ permission also. According to the older brother, Sam had agreed to have surgery, and Dean had even claimed that Sam's short-term memory had improved. The doctor knew that the news shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did though. In his entire career as a physician, Dr. Garrison had rarely experienced such a remarkable progress in his recovery as Sam had had so far, which the doctor knew had to be a result of the unrelenting devotion and dedication the older brother had put into pulling his little brother back to life – not to mention the fierce protectiveness that Dean had shown said brother every step of the way in Sam's recovery. It seemed as if these brothers shared a bond that the doctor only wished he could come remotely close to sharing with his own siblings, and it was this bond that separated them from the rest of the cases the doctor usually faced.

As Dr. Garrison walked into Sam's hospital room, it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him either to see Dean standing by Sam's bedside, humming along on some classic rock song to distract his brother from the surgery preparations, but somehow it still did. It never stopped amazing the doctor how gentle Dean was caring for his little brother – especially since Dean was all tough and even a little bit scary whenever he wasn't addressing Sam.

"You ready?" Dr. Garrison asked Sam.

The younger brother didn't answer but instead turned his eyes towards Dean. Whether it was to seek comfort or perhaps find strength in the older brother, the doctor didn't know, but Sam did seem to find whatever he was searching for, before he turned his eyes back to the doctor.

"I'm ready." He proclaimed.

"Good." The doctor said. "And don't worry, we'll take good care of you."

"You will." Dean confirmed – which sounded far more like a threat than an agreement, and the look the uncle sent the doctor just added to the fact that the older brother sure as hell wasn't kidding around.

While Dr. Garrison shifted uncomfortably under the gaze Mr. Singer was giving him, Dean leaned closer to his brother and talked to him in a low voice that was only meant for Sam to hear.

"Alright, time to go." The doctor announced when Dean was done talking to Sam, and nodded to the nurses who began to roll Sam's bed towards the exit.

"See you after your much needed beauty-sleep, bitch." Dean called after his brother and the doctor frowned at the sort of inappropriate choice of words.

"You need it more than I do, you jerk." Sam called back and Dr. Garrison heard the older brother laugh before the door was closed behind them.

The doctor found it kind of strange that a couple of brothers who seemed to be as close as these two did, didn't exchange one single _I love you -_ but well, who was he to judge anyway?

**_ SPN _**

"If you continue to pace the room like that, it won't be long before you don't have any soles left on those shoes." Bobby commented as he watched Dean walk back and forth in Sam's room like he had done non-stop ever since Sam had been taken to surgery - _and_ had returned again.

Dean just shot the older man a glare and continued his pace – once in a while stopping in front of Sam's hospital bed to check if the younger brother was waking up, before he started his pacing once again.

"He'll wake up in his own time." Bobby continued, ignoring the fact that Dean was ignoring him. "Sam isn't comatose this time around; he's just sleeping."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Dean muttered and Bobby rolled his eyes at him.

Truth was that Dean wasn't afraid whether or not Sam would wake up this time around, because Dean knew that he would. What really scared the older Winchester brother was whether or not the nerve damage had actually been fixed, which they wouldn't know for sure before Sam woke up. What if the surgery hadn't worked? How on earth would Sam react if he still had a life in a wheelchair in front of him when Dean had promised him otherwise? The older brother felt sick to his stomach by the mere thought of it.

Dean was soon interrupted in his speculations as the door to Sam's hospital room was suddenly ripped open and someone stormed inside. Dean immediately tensed up and moved protectively between Sam and the new arriver while he recognized the person as Officer Harris – one of the two cops that had shown up at the hospital right after Sam was committed.

"You're in a lot of trouble now." Harris said to Dean and the older Winchester brother narrowed his eyes at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked in a cold voice.

"Dean, what's going on?" Bobby, who had risen from his chair the moment the door was ripped open, asked as he placed himself next to Dean. "Who is this?"

"He's a cop." Dean said to Bobby before addressing Officer Harris again. "I asked you a question!"

"Guess what the investigators found at Charles Goodwin's mansion?" Harris said. "A bullet in the wall by that balcony your partner fell from. And it was bloody!"

"Well, good for you." Dean said. "Now get out of here!"

"You don't get it, do you? It is indeed good for me 'cause the result of the test we did of the bloody bullet came back, and it turns out that the blood belongs to Mr. Goodwin - who by the way is still missing. We also found the gun to which the bullet belonged.." Harris said with a smirk and Dean clenched his jaw hard as he realized what gun the cop was talking about. ".. and it was no registered police weapon."

Bobby had found Dean's gun when he had cleaned up in the mansion, but neither one of them had thought about where the hell Sam's gun had ended up, since they'd both been so wrapped up in Sam's severe situation.

"We've run the finger prints on the gun.." Officer Harris continued when no one said anything. ".. and they belong to your partner who is better known as Sam Winchester – one of America's most wanted."

Harris walked a couple of steps closer to Dean in a threatening way, so that the two men soon ended up face to face.

"But you already knew that, didn't you?" Harris asked and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "The question is now; who are _you_?"

"I already told ya; I was the one you didn't want to meet again." Dean said in a low and dangerous voice.

"Tell you what, as soon as your ' _partner_ ' wakes up, I'm cuffing him up and locking him away and then it'll only be a matter of time before.." Harris started but was cut off as Dean grabbed the collar of his jacket and smacked the cop up against a wall.

"Dean!" Bobby barked but the oldest Winchester ignored him.

"You lay one finger on him, and I'll rip you apart. You hear me?" Dean growled at the cop.

"Dean!" Bobby shouted once more and the young hunter then roughly let go of Harris.

"That was assault of a police officer!" Harris gasped as he backed towards the exit. "You'll regret this!"

Harris then stormed out of the room and Dean angrily kicked the open door of the room shut.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed.

"What the hell, Dean?" Bobby asked. "Now he'll return with backup and have you both arrested!"

"No he won't, 'cause we're not gonna be here when he comes back." Dean said with determination in his voice. "We're taking Sam with us and then we're out of here."

"Ah, balls." Bobby muttered and glanced at the still unconscious and immobilized Sam.

How the hell were they gonna escape this place unnoticed and before the police showed up? And more importantly; what the hell were they gonna do about Sam?


	8. Chapter 8

 

Bobby nervously paced the room back and forth - alternating between looking at the unconscious Winchester on the hospital bed and staring out of the glass panes at the ICU hallway in hopes of catching a glimpse of the second Winchester as well. If everything happened as planned, Dean would be back in a minute loaded with the supplies that they would need to take care of Sam after leaving the hospital - which, among other stuff, included the much-needed pain medicine.

The older hunter still didn't know how and if they would be able to get Sam out of the hospital without anyone noticing – especially since the ICU was always manned and the staff did regular check-up on the patients - and Bobby also kept expecting to see a bunch of cops show up at any moment to arrest them. Officer Harris might have been really frigging bad at his job, since he had willingly blurted out everything to the hunters without a second thought to it, but Bobby had no doubts that the cop was right about the proofs the investigators had found at Charles Goodwin's house. He also figured that it would only be a matter of time before Harris would return to the hospital with back up. Besides, the police already knew about Sam's real identity, which meant that it wouldn't be long before they figured out who Dean was as well - and then all hell would definitely break loose!

"You hang in there, Sam." Bobby muttered and tenderly adjusted the blanket covering the youngest brother – then startled as Dean suddenly returned to the room.

"How is he? Has he been awake?" Dean asked even before the door had completely shut behind him.

"No, he hasn't as much as fluttered an eyelash since you left." Bobby answered.

"Well, he'll come around soon enough." Dean said with an optimism that made the older hunter raise an eyebrow.

"I take it that the hunt for supplies went well?" Bobby said and Dean smiled wryly.

"Easy peasey." Dean said and pulled his jacket a bit aside to reveal some syringes and a row of morphine ampules that stuck up from his inner pockets. "It's amazing how far a little bit of flirtation with the nurses can get you."

"I bet." Bobby said with an eye roll. "The car loaded?"

"Yeah, Baby's all Sam-friendly and ready to go." Dean said and glanced at his wristwatch. "If we're lucky, we'll be able to sneak Sam out of here before Dr. Garrison's shift starts."

"You still sure about this?" Bobby wanted to know as Dean got started on removing all of the IV-lines and all the other things from Sam that the younger brother was attached to. "You heard the doctor Dean; even if the surgery was a success and Sam does heal fully, the kid still has a long road ahead of him. We might not be able to give him the necessary rehabilitation that he needs."

"What other option do we have, Bobby?" Dean asked, carefully slid an IV-needle out of Sam's wrist and quickly put pressure on the wound before wrapping gauze around it. "I'm not letting anyone touch my brother – especially not that son of a bitch to Harris! Besides, I'm gonna take care of Sammy. I'll get him back on his feet in no time. You just wait and see."

Knowing that it would be pointless to argue with Dean when Sam was concerned, Bobby fell silent and instead kept an eye out for possible trouble while Dean finished preparing Sam for their escape. Pulling the Venetian blinds a bit to the side, Bobby peaked down the hallway and cursed as he saw the approaching staff.

"Dean, time's up." Bobby announced. "They're doing rounds."

"Already?" Dean asked and grabbed a sheet he'd found in one of the cabinets. "They're early!

"No shit." Bobby said, let go of the blinds and turned around to face the anxious older brother. "I'll handle it. You get Sam out of here – I'll catch up with you in the basement."

Bobby hurried out of the room before Dean had a chance to reply. The older Winchester brother nodded his gratitude to his surrogate father as the older man passed by the glass panes outside the room, and Dean then turned his attention back to his little brother.

"Alright Sammy, let's go." Dean said with determination and draped the sheet over his unconscious brother to make him look like a corpse, before undoing the brakes on the bed and rolling it towards the exit.

Opening the door halfway, Dean sneaked a glance outside just in time to see Bobby collapsing in front of the nursing staff who immediately sprang into action – giving Dean the opportunity he needed to roll Sam discreetly out of the room and towards the elevators.

"Nice job, Bobby." Dean mumbled as he pushed the elevator button and then impatiently waited for the lift to arrive while glancing nervously over his shoulder.

When the elevator finally pinged its arrival, Dean let out the breath he'd been holding and began to roll Sam inside the lift, but then hesitated as he noticed that the elevator cabin wasn't empty. An elderly woman in a floral dress - and with what Dean could only describe as a big-ass hat on her head – moved a bit to the side to make room for him, and Dean then reluctantly pushed the hospital bed with Sam inside.

Dean shot the woman a strained smile before pushing the button to the parking space. The older brother caught a glimpse of Bobby being led to a chair and forced to drink some soda while mumbling something about low blood sugar, before the elevator doors closed – effectively blocking Dean's sight of Bobby.

"I'm here visiting my son." The woman announced conversationally as the elevator slowly moved downwards. "He broke his leg in a skiing accident."

Dean hummed out some sort of response while keeping his eyes at the floor numbers as they passed them _– 8th floor, 7th floor, 6th floor.._

"Of course, that's what to expect." The woman continued, not seeming to notice the half-hearted attempt of a conversation from Dean's side. "He's never really been much of a skier."

_5th floor, 4th floor.._

"Is that a dead body?" The woman asked and nodded towards Sam.

"Yes." Dean answered.

"To tell you the truth, this is not the first time I've been close to a corpse." The woman revealed and leaned a bit closer as if to share a secret. "My first husband died overnight. Massive heart attack, nothing anyone could have done."

_3rd floor.._

"And that wasn't even the first time I've.." The woman began, then suddenly screamed which startled the older brother.

"What?" Dean asked, turning to look at the now pale elderly woman who had put a hand before her mouth and pointed towards the hospital bed with wide eyes.

"The sh-sheet m-m-moved!" She stuttered out.

"No, no, that's impossible." Dean said with a short laugh. "You should ease off the happy pills, lady."

"But I swear – the sheet moved!" The woman continued in a high-pitched voice and squashed herself up against the elevator wall, as far away from Sam as she could get.

"Listen.." Dean started but was cut off by a weak croak from the sheet-covered bed next to him.

"Dean." Sam's voice called and the woman started screaming on the top of her lungs.

The elevator pinged at the basement floor and, even before the doors were fully open, the woman – still screaming – squashed herself through the doors and ran away.

"You have one hell of a timing, Sammy." Dean said and peeled back the sheet from Sam's face to look at his now awake little brother.

"Dean." Sam repeated, squinting a bit against the light and blinked up at Dean with disorientated eyes.

"Sammy -" Dean began.

"What the hell?" A voice said before Dean could let his brother in on the situation.

Dean drew his gun and spun around in one quick motion – then found himself pointing his weapon at Sam's doctor who stared back at the older Winchester with shock and horror on his face.

"Step back, nice and slowly." Dean said, one hand clenched around the handle of the gun and the other hand closed around the rail of Sam's bed.

"What are you doing?" The doctor demanded to know as he slowly began to step backwards with his hands raised in defense. Dean followed him at the same pace – exiting the elevator with Sam in tow. "You're not leaving, are you? But your brother isn't recovered yet. He just came out of surgery!"

"Quiet!" Dean growled at the doctor.

"This is madness." The doctor whispered.

"Dean." Sam called again, his immobilized position preventing him from seeing his brother. "What's going on?"

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean said. "Everything's okay. I'm just getting you out of the hospital, alright?"

"Don't be ridiculous." The doctor said. "Sam needs help, he needs care. You've done nothing but the best for your brother so far. Why change it now?"

"You wouldn't understand." Dean huffed. "I'm doing this for Sam."

"Then prove it." The doctor said. "If you really want what's best for Sam, you turn around and bring him back inside."

Dean hesitated for a moment, wondering for a brief moment if he was causing Sam more harm than good by doing this, but then remembered Officer Harris' promise of locking his brother away.

"Sorry doc, I'm running out of time here." Dean said.

Before the doctor could comprehend what Dean was apologizing for, the older Winchester brother raised the bottom of his gun and let it connect with the side of Dr. Garrison's head – effectively knocking the physician out cold. Dean felt genuinely sorry and guilty for causing harm to the doctor who had done so much for Sam this past month, but Dean did what he had to do to protect his little brother. Always had done, always would.

"Dean?" Sam called out.

"It's okay, Sam." Dean said and shot the unconscious doctor a regretful look before tucking his gun away.

After dragging the doctor to a hide behind a row of parked cars, Dean quickly returned to Sam's side to calm down the now distressed younger brother, before rolling Sam towards the spot where the Impala was parked, packed and ready to hit the road.

Dean had transformed the backseat of the car into one big hospital bed - having used a couple of mattresses and a bunch of blankets, that he had managed to sneak out on a rare strike of luck, to assure his little brother's comfort. Sam was still kept immobilized with the neck brace firmly in place - and now with the addition of a back brace that the doctor had ordained for the younger Winchester right after Sam's surgery to limit the motion of his spine. Dean knew it wouldn't be enough to prevent Sam from feeling the bumps during the ride and the movements from the car, but he hoped that it would at least keep the kid somewhat relaxed and free of further damage until they could reach Sioux Falls.

Bobby had suggested (or insisted rather) that the brothers hauled up at his house during Sam's recovery, and Dean was more than happy to indulge in the older hunter's request for once. They couldn't afford staying at anything fancier than a motel anyway, and Sam needed to stay at something better than a dirty old motel room while getting through his recovery.

"Alright, listen up." Dean told his brother as they reached the car, and then hovered above Sam's face to keep eye contact with the kid. "I need to get you into the car, okay? But it's not gonna be easy. You gotta brace yourself for it, okay Sam?"

"'kay." Sam said and, although the younger brother was still a bit groggy and confused, Dean found trust in the green eyes he knew so well.

"Okay." Dean repeated and rubbed a hand back and forth on Sam's chest in a comforting gesture before moving on with business.

The older Winchester brother opened up both backseat doors of the car and then wondered for a brief moment how he would be able to get Sam inside the car without hurting him too much, when approaching footsteps caught his attention. Dean immediately stepped in front of Sam's bed to protect his brother for any possible danger and let his hand rest against the handle of the gun tucked away in the back of his jeans – then slowly let go of it again as Bobby showed up around the corner.

"Dean, we gotta move." Bobby said a little out of breath.

"Help me with Sam." Dean said and Bobby quickly closed the distance between them.

"How are you doing, son?" Bobby wanted to know as he looked down at the youngest brother.

"M'okay." Sam announced although his facial color told Bobby otherwise, and the older hunter exchanged a look with Dean.

"He says he's okay, Bobby. Let's get on with it." Dean said, knowing that they were running out of time and wanting to get Sam into the safety of the car as soon as possible – and then get the hell out of dodge!

Rolling the bed as close to the car as possible, Dean climbed into the opening of the backseat before sliding his arms underneath Sam's armpits and crossing his arms around Sam's chest – securing the upper part of the younger brother's body against his chest while Bobby released the straps that was keeping Sam tied to the bed. Sam grunted because of the tight hold Dean had of him, and Dean muttered an apology into Sam's curly brown locks but didn't let go of his brother nonetheless.

"I hope you're ready for this." Bobby said and exchanged a look with Dean who nodded in return, before the older hunter took a hold of Sam's legs.

"On three." Dean said. "One, two.."

"..three!" Bobby counted in unison.

As they both lifted Sam up and Dean slid backwards into the car – bringing Sam with him – the youngest Winchester started screaming in pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, almost there." Dean grunted out - then felt alarmed as Sam's screams ended as suddenly as they'd started. "Sammy?"

"I think he passed out." Bobby said in a voice strained with effort and let out a heavy breath as Sam was finally situated on the mattresses on the backseat.

Having crawled out of the opposite backseat door for Sam's entire frame to fit into the car, Dean stuck his head back inside and did a quick assess of his little brother. Sam was pale and his skin clammy to the touch, but Dean found solace in the fact that Sam's pulse was at least steady – although a little rapid – and his breathing was strong and even.

Dean brushed Sam's damp bangs out of his eyes before he grabbed one of the syringes from his jacket, and quickly filled it up with morphine from an ampule. He then tapped on the syringe a couple of times, stuck the needle into Sam's skin and expertly injected the morphine into a vein.

"Shh." Dean gently shushed his brother and brushed a hand through Sam's hair, when the younger man let out a soft whimper in the process.

Dean froze when the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance and he snapped his head towards Bobby who stared back at Dean with wide eyes.

"That ain't no ambulance." Bobby concluded before grabbing a roll of duct tape.

"What are you doing, Bobby? Let's roll!" Dean exclaimed and closed the backseat door before hurrying to the other side of the car – just in time to see Bobby using the duct tape to strap Sam to the mattress. "What..?"

"I know how you drive, boy." Bobby said. "This way there's a chance Sam might _not_ fly through a window!"

As the sirens got louder and louder, Bobby finished taping Sam in place and hastily closed the car door – then turned to Dean who had turned on the car and was now waiting impatiently behind the wheels.

"Go!" Bobby said. "I'll catch up with you in my truck."

"Don't get arrested." Dean said and put the car in reverse.

"I could say the same to you." Bobby huffed. "Go, ya idjit!"

Dean stepped on the gas and sped out of the parking space – leaving behind a cloud of dust that made the older hunter cough.

"Damn Winchesters!" Bobby muttered before he hurried towards his truck to catch up with the boys he loved more than he cared to admit.

**_ SPN _**

If getting Sam into the car had been tough, it was nothing compared to the struggle it was to get him out of the car again and into Bobby's house in Sioux Falls. After arguing for a while on how to move Sam without causing the youngest too much harm, Dean had dozed Sam with another round of morphine, while Bobby had collected an old army field stretcher that they had used to bring the youngest Winchester brother inside. The living room had then been turned into what Dean referred to as _Sam's recovery zone_ , which was exactly where Sam woke up when he finally came to again.

Getting out of the morphine haze that had cocooned him and kept him comfortable until now, Sam slowly blinked his eyes open and smacked his dry lips a couple of times while staring groggily at the ceiling above him. It was dark but an orange glow, from what Sam could imagine came from a fireplace, lit up the room a bit and revealed a pattern on the ceiling above him. As the pattern gradually came into focus, Sam recognized it as the remains of a devil's trap that had been broken by a large crack in the ceiling. The crack was partially fixed but Sam could tell that the ceiling still needed a loving hand, and it was in the middle of this line of thoughts that the younger Winchester brother realized where he was - Bobby's house.

Sam only had a vague memory of the escape from the hospital – short flashes of Dean threatening Dr. Garrison, the parking space, and Dean and Bobby getting Sam into the Impala. Sam remembered the pain though - the pain had been awful - but he also remembered Dean apologizing to him.. and then nothing.

Speaking of Dean.. Sam tried to turn his head to look for his brother but was restricted by the neck brace that he'd happily forgotten existed for a couple of blissful moments. Sam cleared his throat and was about to call for his brother when his ears picked up on the sound of soft snores coming from a place nearby on his left side.

There was no mistake of who those snores belonged to - Sam would recognize his brother's snores anywhere - and not because they were particularly loud or anything like that but after all, he _had_ spent the bigger part of 23 years listening to those sounds.

The youngest Winchester moved his eyes towards the sound of Dean's snores and – passing by the bag of fluids that was attached to an IV line in his arm, Sam was just able to make out Dean's resting form on Bobby's old living room couch. Dean's legs were crossed at the ankles but his hands were closed around what looked like a stack of papers, which made Sam frown. Had Dean fallen asleep _reading_? What the heck? If that stack of papers wasn't some sort of coverless edition of the BustyAsianBeaties magazine, then Sam would seriously start to wonder if Dean was okay.

Smacking his lips once more, Sam realized how thirsty he was. He once again turned his eyes towards Dean but, knowing how worn and sleep deprived the older brother had been throughout Sam's hospitalization, the youngest Winchester couldn't bring himself to wake up Dean – not even if that meant he had to remain thirsty for a little while longer.

Trying to make himself more comfortable on his bed, Sam tried to move a bit which he soon realized was a big mistake. Pain shot through his back immediately and Sam couldn't hold back a yelp of pain that he hoped hadn't woken up his brother.

"Sam?" Dean asked in a sleepy voice.

_No such luck_.

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean asked and showed up in Sam's line of vision in the blink of an eye.

"Yeah, just forgot that moving was a big no-no." Sam grunted out. "Sorry for waking you."

"I wasn't sleeping." Dean protested and Sam huffed out a laugh.

"Dude, you snored." Sam said.

"You're delirious." Dean said with a shake of his head. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay – as long as I don't move." Sam answered. "Or breathe too deeply."

"Right." Dean said with a concerned frown line between his eyes - then left for a few seconds before returning with a glass of water with a straw that he placed by Sam's lips. "Drink. Slow sips."

Sam did as he was told and relished the cold liquid that soothed his dry mouth and throat.

"What were you reading?" Sam asked when Dean removed the straw again and put the glass of water away.

Dean glanced at the files he'd stolen from the hospital that contained everything about Sam's case, and then shook his head.

"How about we focus on the more important issue; how are your arms and legs?" Dean said and grabbed Sam's right hand before using the tip of a finger to slide across Sam's palm and along each finger to stimulate Sam's nerves. "You feel this?"

"Yeah." Sam said.

Dean then did the same thing with Sam's left hand, and Sam was pleasantly surprised to realize that his left hand no longer felt like it was asleep.

"I can feel it, Dean." Sam reported with a relieved smile.

"And it doesn't feel weird or anything?" Dean wanted to know.

"No, it feels normal." Sam revealed and Dean nodded before moving on to Sam's feet.

To both brothers' relief, Sam's right foot was still functioning as well as it had always done. The bigger question was whether Sam's left foot was functioning too. Dean took a hold of Sam's ankle and tested the nerves the same way he'd done since he started the assessing, keeping his eyes locked with Sam's.

"Sammy?" Dean asked. "Can you feel this?"

Sam closed his eyes and hesitated, then swallowed hard and when he opened his eyes back up again, Dean saw tears in his little brother's eyes, which made Dean's heart hammer away inside his chest.

"Sammy?" Dean asked again.

"I feel it." Sam all but whispered and let out a sob. "I'm really okay, Dean."

The oldest Winchester let go of Sam's foot and walked up to the head of the bed again before smiling down at his younger brother.

"You really are, little brother." Dean said – then surprised the hell out of Sam as he placed a kiss on the top of Sam's head. "You really are."

**_ SPN _**

Bobby Singer didn't believe in miracles. He really didn't. However, the more time he spent with the Winchesters through the following few months, the closer and closer he came to believe that he'd actually witnessed one after all.

Sam's recovery and rehabilitation took time and were sadly far from as easy as a walk in the park. But despite the occasional meltdowns Sam had had throughout the time he'd spent on complete bed rest - and especially throughout the many exercises Dean had put him through afterwards which had been the cause of a lot of shouting and tears – Dean had never given up on Sam. He'd stayed by his brother's side and Sam had repaid the commitment by working harder than most people were capable of – making far more progress faster than patients with these kinda injuries normally did.

Sam's first steps after his accident had been like a blast from the past. He had taken his first steps towards his encouraging big brother who had been ready to catch Sam should he fall over, and it had been a complete copy of toddler Sam's first steps that also happened to have been towards Dean. Bobby had been tactful enough not to comment on it, but the older hunter hadn't failed to notice that the whole ordeal had brought tears to Dean's eyes at the time.

Exactly three months and five days after Sam fell from the balcony on the werewolf hunt, the youngest Winchester was yet again walking around like had the accident never happened. Sam's body was still a little stiff though but Dean knew that it would only be a matter of time – and a continuation of the exercises he did with his little brother every day – before Sam would be his old self again.

"You boys be careful, alright?" Bobby said as he leaned inside the open passenger window of the Impala where the brothers were ready to hit the road. "No more falling from balconies."

"No more." Sam agreed with a wry smile and Bobby gave the kid's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"We'll take it easy for a while." Dean promised and turned on the engine of the car that came to life with a roar.

"Alright, then what are you waiting for, ya idjit?" Bobby asked and stepped back. "Get out of here so a poor man can get his house back. I ain't getting younger by the second."

"Or any less grumpy.." Dean muttered to Sam before waving at Bobby and steering the car out of _Singer Auto_ and back on the road.

"Thanks man." Sam said after a little while of silence.

"For what?" Dean asked, alternating between looking at Sam and at the road ahead of him.

"For everything." Sam said in a soft voice. "I mean, if it hadn't been for you I wouldn't even be walking and talking now, so yeah.."

"You're actually _sitting_ and talking right now." Dean said and snorted when Sam shot him a glare.

"You know what I mean, Dean." Sam said.

"I do." Dean admitted and cleared his throat. "You're welcome."

The brothers looked at each other for a few moments before Dean turned his attention back to the road and cranked up the music. Sam continued to look at Dean for a few extra moments, then smiled and looked out of the window again.

There was nothing more that needed to be said between them. Everything else, they already knew.

**THE END**


End file.
